


Undisclosed Desires

by bloodvein



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boss/Employee Relationship, Daddy Kink, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, Light BDSM, Season 1 Olivia, Season 12 Elliot, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodvein/pseuds/bloodvein
Summary: Despite their age difference, Captain Stabler and Detective Benson see eye to eye.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm going to slowly be editing and uploading my fics onto AO3, so here is the first chapter of Undisclosed Desires. Enjoy!

She takes a deep breath and dabs her pulse with a cool cloth.

Each time she inhales through her nose, out through her mouth, pausing for three seconds after her lungs completely empty. Soon, she begins to feel the walls start to fade back to their rightful place, and not right against her. The shade of red that she had been seeing softened to pink and then disappeared.

Olivia had been assigned to Manhattan SVU as her first detective post six months ago. She’d been partnered with a great cop and now an incredibly loyal friend, Monique Jeffries. In just six months she felt as though she had a best friend, and someone who she felt like she couldn’t believe wasn’t in her life prior to her new assignment.

She got along great with her fellow detectives. Munch, ever so concerned with how the government was involved in his life; Cassidy, his partner, a young, immature detective – but still passionate about his job. Her life was what she had wanted.

Except for one thing.

One person, she would say.

The Captain.

It was just her luck that her captain could never seem to be satisfied with her work. No _good job, Benson_ or _thank you for submitting your paperwork a week early_. He was stoic with her. Never gave her an inch. Yet, he was perfectly nice and close with all the other detectives, including Monique.

Within a week of starting at SVU, Monique had already noticed something was off.

_“So,” Monique started. “I know we haven’t known each other long but I need to ask you something.” Olivia looked to the driver seat of the sedan at her partner, raising an eyebrow. “What did you do to the Captain?”_

_Olivia let out a long, exhausted sigh. “I had never met him until I walked in on my first day. I was professional, nice – eager. But he just sat there and looked… I don’t know. Angry. Is he like that with you?”_

_“No… We’ve always been on good terms. I even messed up paperwork once and he didn’t mind, just showed me what I needed to fix and how. Really nice guy too, once you get to know him.” Monique shrugged and put the car into drive._

Olivia couldn’t figure out what had caused him to dislike her so greatly. Her old captain had given her glowing recommendations, personally calling SVU to formally request Olivia to be assigned there.

Every case she worked had gone according to plan. Only Monique and Munch knew about her biological father and they saw how she was with the victims. She wore professional attire, wore conservative amounts of makeup, kept a low profile outside of work. On paper and in person she was a good detective.

_So, what was the fucking problem then?_

She looks up at her reflection. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes. With one more pass of the cloth over her mouth, Olivia runs a finger along her lips and sighs. She is determined to figure out what his issue is.

When Olivia walks back into the bullpen, Monique looks up from her paperwork at her. “Captain wants to see you.”

Pursing her lips, she flexes her fingers out and back into fists, trying to re-calm herself down. Before she could knock, the Captain interrupted. “Benson… Come in, sit.” Olivia does as she is told, folding her hands in her lap while maintaining her open, friendly body language.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He asks, looking at her with a steely, hard gaze.

“No, Captain.”

_Keep it short and sweet._

“You just finished your first six months at SVU. This is your first evaluation as a detective.” He sits up, shrugging off his suit jacket. In one fluid motion, he stands up, comes around his desk, and leans against the front of it, crossing his arms. “How do you think you did?”

“Well, I closed eleven cases with Detective Jeff-”

“You have a good partner. Tell me how _you_ did.” He interrupts her, throwing her off guard. Olivia busies herself, staring at her captain’s hands.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, I’m not very good at self-assessment.” His hands squeezes at the wood beneath his fingers and shows off his bruised knuckles. She immediately wondered about who – or rather what – he had punched to earn bruises like that. When was he not in control? She feels a rush in the pit of her stomach.

There was very little she knew about the Captain. Recently divorced, father of four. Analytical. In the rare times she had seen him interacting with victims and families he had been gentle, kind even – but all of this seemed to wash away when he spoke to Olivia. He was never mean to her. Never raised his voice. He was calculated. Almost as if he had planned any interaction he had with Olivia.

The Captain unbuttons his sleeve and begins rolling up the fabric. For a moment Olivia glances at the thick muscles covering his forearms before looking away. Her heart quickens. A thought crosses her mind, but she quickly puts it back in its place, biting down hard on her lower lip. The Captain clears his throat.

“Okay Detective,” He makes quick work of his other sleeve. “I think you’ve been exceptional. This is all in your official evaluation, but you’ve got a knack for victims. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Olivia stares back at him. He had never complimented her. Shock runs coolly through her veins.

_This is all in her head, right?_

“How old are you?” Olivia’s head pops up at the question. She realizes she has been looking off at the side of his desk, probably not a great look for her first evaluation.

_Detective is dazed, confused – distracted._

_Distracted._

“Twenty-eight,” Olivia replies, attempting to regain control over the situation. She needs to reign in whatever was happening to her, bury it somewhere no one would ever find it.

“Ah,” The Captain blinks a few times and the corners of his lips turn up into a ghost of a smile. “If you just want to read over your review and sign it.” He slides a folder across the table. Olivia takes it without looking at him.

_Detective Olivia Benson, 6-month performance review._

_Joined: May 1992_

_Previous Precinct: 55 th Precinct, Bronx._

_Promotion date: January 1998_

_Position: Detective 3 rd Grade – Partnered with Detective Jeffries_

_Detective Benson has produced exemplary work in her time at the Special Victims Unit. Benson is professional, courteous, and very compassionate with the citizens she handles. In her first six months, she has created an incredible closure rate – 92%. Her coworkers speak highly of the quality of work Benson is able to put out and she has assimilated well into the role of Detective. Additionally, she completed the NYPD annual fitness examination and scored in the 99 th percentile for her age range and gender, earning her a platinum score._

_Signed,_

_Captain Elliot Stabler_

Olivia signs quietly, noting his name scrawled under his typed name.

Elliot.

She closes the folder and places it on the desk, sliding it towards her captain. “Thank you,” Her cheeks warm while she processed the words in his review of her. She looks up at him – locking onto his gaze. Her fingers graze against his then and they both retract, neither of them breaking the eye contact. Elliot’s eyes grow darker suddenly, his eyes narrowing. The hints of a smile are now gone, only replaced with his dangerous gaze.

“Thank you, Olivia.” His voice is rough, raspy – impossibly low. He looks away from her only to look back and rake his eyes down her body. Olivia stands up, ignoring the urge to press her thighs together to ease the pressure. Her first name on his lips had awoken something deep within her core.

He is older than her, from Monique’s description, he is 17 years older. She knows better than to feel this way. But she has felt this way before, and it hadn’t ended well. Her mind races with thoughts, flashes, really – of his forearms, her slim body, his low voice grunting.

Olivia swallows hard and exits the room, glancing once more back at her commanding officer before closing the door. She bites down hard again on her lower lip. His eyes are still hard.

A dark, heated look is exchanged.

She walks back to her desk, keeping her head low.

Monique furrows her brows at Olivia, her expression questioning.

Olivia couldn’t begin to explain what was coursing through veins.

_Desire._


	2. Chapter 2

_Elliot._

_He groaned watching her perfect lips moan his name. She sunk to her knees in front of him and took his erection into her mouth._

_Fuck._

_She was sin. Everything he desired was before him as if he had made a deal with Lucifer himself._

_Maybe he should._

_Christ, she felt good._

_Next, she was on his bed. Her fit, perfect body writhing beneath his. His fingers splayed over her slim waist, up to her breasts, her taut neck…_

_That mouth._

_The dream changed again. This time he had her bent over the bed, his hand tight in her hair, pulling hard while he thrust into her. She called out his name again, the desperation evident in the higher octave of her voice. She was close._

_Olivia._

* * *

The squad was tired.

He could see that. Their eyes had bags under them, faces pale, eyes glassy.

The case had been hell. For nearly three weeks they never stopped, neither did he. Part of him was grateful for the nonstop nature of the job. It distracted him from the parts of himself he did not want to shine a light on. Things he wished he could just forget. But after the cases were done, he knew they would creep back in.

Certain things helped. Working out, spending time with friends and family. Sex.

Not that the latter was happening very much.

His demeanor had changed since the divorce. He had become particular about the women that he chose to be with. At first, it was just someone to make him feel less lonely; then it became a contest with his psyche – as if his subconscious would set him up with women he knew it would never work out with. Nurses; their schedules just as wild as his. Lawyers; the job would always get in the way no matter which side they were on. He made sure to never cross the line with anyone he worked with.

It was a rule.

It _was._

Slowly the bricks had fallen away from that wall.

Her work ethic had first set her on his path. She stayed late. Followed every lead to completion, interviewing anyone and everyone who knew either people involved in the crimes they investigated. She was young, fierce, willing to give it all in the name of justice.

He knew her past. No, he would have never told her that he knew. But he did.

And he would be a lying bastard if he did not admit that he searched and searched for the man that raped her mother. But the case was cold. If he knew one thing about her, he knew that she was also looking into it. He knew if he went to the evidence lock-up, he would find her signature, the case number.

So, he let it go. For now.

From the confines of his office, Elliot watched his squad work. There wasn't a lot left to do. His eyes wandered from Munch and Cassidy to Jeffries and Olivia.

She laughed at something that Monique said. Munch stood first and gathered his paperwork along with Cassidy's. He walked over to Olivia's desk and piled their reports on as well. He made a mental note to start pushing Munch for more responsibilities. The squad needed a solid number two, a buffer between him and the squad.

_Olivia won't come to you then._

Elliot shook off the thought. The ink was barely dry on his divorce. He couldn't – he shouldn't be thinking about her this way. She kept drawing him in; biting her lip when she looked at him, stretching out her long limbs when they spoke. He thought back to the few heated looks they had shared and her performance review. Olivia had taken him in just the way he had with her. Just the two of them. Nothing crossing the line except their lingering eyes. He couldn't continue to think in this manner, he would have a bigger problem.

He opened the door to his office, stepping out into the bullpen. "All done, John?" He raised an eyebrow at Munch and took the pile of paperwork.

"Yes, and Cap – we're all going out for drinks if you'd like to come."

_Push your thoughts away._

"Not all of us," Olivia interjected. Elliot shot her a quick glance and narrowed his eyes at her. She was wearing jeans and a tight purple shirt. Before he could question her motives, Cassidy addressed her.

"C'mon Olivia, you just need to loosen up. Come have a drink!"

Something surged inside of Elliot.

He held his hand up to stop Cassidy from speaking once again. "Olivia doesn't want to go, that's final. See you all Monday morning." He turned at once and went back to his office, closing the door. He could still hear the murmurs of his shocked squad.

What was it about her that had him beginning to lose control?

_Go look at those jeans again…_

The voice in his head had begun to be more prominent than he was used to. Slowly the bullpen cleared out.

A small knock came at his door and it creaked open again. "Captain?" Her smooth voice enveloped his senses. He didn't want to look at her just yet, he needed to push away the flashes from his dream earlier in the day. "I could have handled Cassidy myself."

His head snapped up. "I'm aware." _I just didn't like the tone of Cassidy's voice. It's not you that I'm worried about._ "Cassidy was out of line, I had to step in."

Olivia seemed to accept his decision. "Okay. Have a good weekend."

* * *

He hadn't realized she was there at first. Usually, he was alone here.

His routine was simple. It had changed over the years, varying in intensity, and whether he was injured or not. The routine exhausted him – forced him out of his own head for a while. He would lose himself in the sweat, in the strain, the mental effort it took to keep up with himself would push out all the other thoughts.

Close calls.

An ex-wife.

Olivia.

When he noticed she was in the precinct gym with him, he was nearly done his workout. Three more sets to go. Usually, after he would do push-ups and crunches until he was gassed. Then she appeared, having moved in the corner of his eye from the treadmill to the heavy bags.

Elliot turned back to the mirror and started another set. Every time he pressed the weights over his head, his eyes would find her. She had shed her zip-up hoodie, revealing a tank top underneath that landed just above the waistband of her leggings.

_Christ._

He screwed his eyes shut.

_Four, three, two one._

This workout wasn't going to be enough for him. He knew that. Each time he moved the weights, it did nothing to quench the fire that had lit inside of him.

_You could lose your job, Elliot._

_She's not even thirty._

Yet the temptation came at him constantly, burning in his chest. It begged him to interact with her, to appease her, give her anything she wanted. He remembered meeting her for the first time and being so taken aback – _this was Olivia Benson? The young hotshot?_

He didn't know what he expected from her that day. Maybe it was that a lot of talented cops were nothing special to look at. She was spectacular. Dark hair, dark eyes. A reflection of everything dark within him. When she walked into his office, he felt a shift. As if he was connected to her in some unknown way. As if he wasn't whole without the feeling of her writhing beneath him.

She was everything within him that he tried to tame – tried to keep at bay. Desperately, for years, he had tried to hold on.

He was done. If he was going to hell, he wanted it to be for a good fucking reason.

She was a thousand reasons in one.

Elliot re-racked the weights and wiped down his bench. He had fully accepted his fate now and walked over to her heavy bag. She was sweaty, her arms covered in a thin sheen of sweat – just like him. His presence seemed to break her from deep thought, and she stopped punching the bag, dropping her glove covered hands.

"Want me to hold the bag?" He asked, his voice low. Her eyes took him in fully, his t-shirt with the arms cut off, shorts, sweat dripping off of him. Elliot could only imagine what he looked like to her. The hungry look in her eyes made him clench his thighs.

He needed to keep the blood in his major muscle groups. There was no way he could sport an erection while she was working out.

_Control._

Olivia nodded and he grabbed the bag. The punches she threw impressed him. From her file, he knew she was fit. But he knew that it wasn't a fluke. She put in work at the gym just like him. Maybe she had her own demons to keep away. Maybe she knew why his knuckles had been bruised. He doubted it. He had barely let himself interact with her, the thought of doing something she didn't want nearly swallowing him whole.

She continued to punch. Her breaths came in pants. The concentration on her face was serious, he knew she must be having a hard time focusing with him there.

_If only you knew how often you invaded my thoughts, Olivia._

After a few minutes, Olivia stopped and took off her gloves. He stood up straight and let go of the bag. Her hand reached for the bottom of her shirt and raised it up to wipe the sweat from her face. His eyes found the smooth skin of her abdomen. She groaned, vocalizing her exertion.

He nearly growled under his breath.

"So Captain," Olivia brought him back to reality.

"Elliot." He corrected her. If they were going to talk alone, he didn't want his rank involved.

She nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you want to wait until next week for me to kick your ass in here again, or…" She trailed off, a smile broke out across her face and Elliot couldn't help but laugh. He stepped closer to her, no longer separated by the heavy bag. His smirk grew when he saw her breath catch in her throat.

"You'd never survive one of my workouts, Olivia."

Her eyes dropped to his mouth. "I think I could handle it."

* * *

His eyes were squeezed shut so hard he saw stars.

For the first few seconds.

Then it subsided.

He let the water fall over his neck and back. The palm of his left hand was pressed to the shower wall. His right hand was wrapped around his hard cock.

Tonight, he let the dream that had haunted him for the entirety of this case come to the surface. It came back, crashing through his psyche and into the forefront of his brain. This time he took his own artistic turn with the images.

Behind his eyes, he brought her legs to his shoulders. She took his thumb into her mouth, her delectable lips closing over his digit. Her face had a layer of sweat – just as she had earlier. The sight brought him closer to the edge.

"Fuck," He groaned. The water sloshed with every stroke. "Olivia."


	3. Chapter 3

She didn't know how she was able to keep this from Monique.

Somehow, she had convinced her that she was just distracted because she needed a vacation.

It was true.

Sort of.

Of course, she hadn't mentioned to Monique that she had been having stare-downs with their captain. Or that they had worked out together. Or that the way they had looked at each other had her sweating in bed, remembering the dark look in his eyes…

No, she definitely hadn't shared those parts.

Monique had come over with her bag of laundry and they left for the laundromat, hampers topped with a couple of magazines to kill the time. Soon after Olivia transferred to the 1-6 and was partnered with Monique, they ran into each other at the laundromat and realized that they actually lived quite close to one another. Close enough they used the same laundromat and soon realized there were quite a few places they actually both visited.

They had made it a weekend pact. Olivia didn't mind the company ever – the city could be lonely, and she really enjoyed spending time with Monique. They were different but respected each other. That's what mattered.

"Why do we buy these magazines?" Monique groaned. She tossed the magazine beside her, rolling her eyes.

"Reading about celebrity drama makes us feel better about ourselves," Olivia said, smirking at her partner. Monique laughed and hummed in agreement. Their dryers dinged and they both hopped off the counter. They began folding their laundry in unison.

"By the way," Olivia started. "My building got laundry machines installed."

Monique smiled at Olivia. "I know."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "How did you know?"

"I picked you up two weeks ago and they were bringing the machines in through the back. I figured you didn't use them for the same reason you didn't tell me until now." Olivia started to clue in. "You're my best friend. I don't hate spending time with you outside of work." Monique laughed to herself, but the smile fell from her face. "But next time we're doing laundry at your place."

Olivia laughed.

* * *

"Damn it." She whispered to herself.

She had come into the precinct to drop off a couple of files on her way to run some errands. What she hadn't planned on was forgetting her cell phone right on top of all the files, stacked neatly on her desk.

The strides she took were long. The precinct was abandoned, the desk sergeant downstairs was the only person left in the building. The silence of the building was unsettling – it was usually bustling with phone calls, witnesses, perps. It was summer – evident in her high waisted shorts and blue t-shirt. No one in their right mind was here voluntarily, except Olivia of course.

Silence always seeped into her bones. It let her think too clearly. She didn't want to think – she was distracting herself a lot lately. Pouring herself into cases, working out, cleaning her apartment. Anything she could do to escape. Her Walkman was on its last leg from the sheer effort of blasting music into her ears for hours on end.

So, when the silence had come, she did not want to welcome it. If she thought too much, too deeply – she would run for the hills. Her stride slowed and she found her cell phone perched on her files just as she had left it.

Something was amiss. Her eyes dragged up and her heart leaped into her throat.

_He was here._

_Fuck._

There she was trying her best to forget about the detail in her life that left her knees shaking, an insatiable heat between her legs, the very reason she was trying to distract herself.

_Elliot._

The light in his office was off but she saw his shadow in the dim light. She wondered if he had sought a distraction too. His head was bent low, he hadn't seen her yet. Maybe she should try and sneak out. There were only seconds for her to decide before she moved, and he saw her.

_Accept it._

Olivia swallowed her nerves and strode towards the office. He was in a dress shirt with the first two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a glass of what she guessed was whiskey in his palm. Her eyes slowly dragged up his body and she finally crossed the threshold into the office. He was sitting against his desk with his feet crossed.

"Didn't know you were here," She murmured while his eyes took her in. His gaze lingered along her bare legs and arms. It sent heat surging to her core. She knew the look in her eyes – the same one she was giving him.

It scared the shit out of her and set fire to her body all at once.

"Could say the same for you." His voice was so low and gruff she could barely think straight. "Just came to pick up a file."

_Take a risk for once, Olivia._

Her life had been so calculated. She had always done the right thing, the just thing. It led her to policing, to being a detective but she craved something different; something darker than herself. She knew where she could fulfill that deep need and the road, she was about to head down was dangerous.

But they both were headed there and still walked along the path.

She stepped forward and took the glass from his hand. The heat coming from him made her feel warm all over. Without breaking their gaze, she took the glass from him and drank the contents. The whiskey didn't even burn in her throat. All she could feel was his pull.

_Need._

"Why're you here?" Elliot rasped. She handed him back the glass. Their fingers touched and his hand lingered just as his eyes had on her. That cocky smirk she had seen before made an appearance before.

She was in trouble and she knew it.

"Forgot my cell phone," Olivia managed to say, her voice unrecognizable to herself.

She had never been so taken by a man. Why had she never noticed the heat before? She realized all too quickly that he had always pushed her away because of this between them, and she began to realize that she had done the same thing as well, settling herself in the fact he just didn't like her as a cop.

Not that he was attracted to her.

His subordinate.

Her superior officer.

Her mind pulled all of that away. It opened the curtains on something deeper. No longer were they two ranks within the NYPD. They were just them – humans. Drawn to one another. He placed the glass on his desk and stood up, looking down at her.

His eyes were so dark. Even in the dim light, she saw everything else so clearly. But his eyes were darker than anything in the room. She dropped her eyes and bit her lip. The pressure between her legs was nearly unbearable. They had barely spoken yet and this was the effect he was having on her. She needed something more. Something to take the edge off.

_Touch me._

Olivia placed her hand on his shoulder. It forced her to move even closer to him, their bodies almost touching. Almost but not quite. The blood was rushing so loudly in her veins she could hardly hear anything else. Even with the men she had been with before there was a sense of adventure. Nothing like this. She knew this was something completely different than she had ever experienced.

Elliot moved then. His rough palm moved just under her ear, his long fingers burning at the back of her neck. His chest was all she saw and she bit her lip even harder looking at the muscles obscured by his half-open shirt.

"Look at me," His mouth was closer than she expected. The whiskey on his breath enveloped her senses and she met his eyes. His free hand came up to graze her bottom lip as she stopped biting it.

Her mind was completely blank now. All she could feel were his hands on her. They both moved then, her mouth pressing against his in a heated kiss. His mouth was just like him – rough, dominant, intimidating. She wrapped her arm around his back and opened her mouth to him.

A moan escaped her lips. Elliot groaned and deepened the kiss, turning his head to the side and tasting her. His tongue slid across hers, the taste of whiskey that they had shared sending a shiver through Olivia's body.

He was the first one to pull back.

"What are we-" Elliot had started to speak but Olivia interrupted, coming back for a second kiss.

She didn't know how she was still standing.

He was so commanding but the independent streak in her rose to the surface. She moved her hands from his back to his chest, finally feeling the bulging muscles under his clothes. His mouth moved from hers down her cheek to her neck. He was gentle and gruff at the same time, scraping his teeth over her neck and then soothing with his tongue and lips.

_Christ, he was good at this._

"Elliot," Olivia moaned into his ear.

_This would be the end of her._

_He would be._


	4. Chapter 4

They had kissed.

It was all he could think about.

The feeling of her mouth against his. The way she had moaned his name. It haunted him.

" _Elliot," She moaned, sending a surge of blood south. He was quickly approaching the point of no return with her. Either they stopped soon or he was about to fuck her right there in the office._

_He didn't want that._

_Well, he did – no doubt it was something he had thought of often. But it wasn't the place he wanted to explore her body or to get to know her so intimately. He had plans. If she was willing, he would do anything she wanted to her._

" _We shouldn't do this here." Olivia had whispered, her forehead coming to rest against his collarbone. His fingers slipped from her back and came to rest on her hips. He pulled back from her neck but kept his proximity close to hers – bowing his head to try and see her expression._

_She was right. Of course she was._

_Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were swollen._

_He had to close his eyes and focus. If he didn't, he would kiss her again. Even during her struggle for inner strength, she had looked so beautiful. His tongue pinched between his teeth; he chose to concentrate on her breath coming in short pants as she fought for control of herself._

_They were screwed._

_The feeling settled into his stomach sooner than he would have liked. Deep inside of him, he knew that he would end up kissing her or making a move at some point. What he didn't expect was the feeling that was completely and utterly mutual – they started and didn't know if they could stop._

" _What do we do?" His voice was barely audible. He needed to feel her mouth against his again. He needed to feel the arch in her lower back again. He needed to feel her under him._

" _We need to talk about this. But not here. I can't think straight." Her honesty had made him smile arrogantly again._

_She was incredible._

They had decided to meet at his apartment. He knew how close partners could be and how close Olivia and Monique were. No one knew where he lived. Not even Olivia.

She had obviously found his place just fine, having buzzed to come up a few moments ago. They had traveled separately, they didn't want to risk anything. It gave him time to change into something more comfortable. He stood with his arms crossed near the door, waiting for her to knock.

It wasn't the situation that had him nervous. He had come to terms with his insanity at this point. It was her – she was brilliant, sexy, witty. There was an unfamiliar tug in his chest. They were about to delve into something bigger than themselves. With consequences.

Fuck the consequences.

He needed her.

"Elliot," He heard from the other side of the door. Immediately he opened the door, barely stepping aside. Her eyes took him in; his jeans, polo shirt unbuttoned to reveal part of his chest. Judging by her expression she enjoyed the view. He grinned. She stepped forward and he had hardly given her any room to get by. Her scent raised to his nose and he momentarily closed his eyes to relish in it. He looked down at her and his eyes dropped to her mouth.

"Hi," She bit her lip.

_Fuck._

"Do you want something to drink?" He needed to distract himself from her mouth. From her presence. He needed to put his energy into what they were about to discuss. She nodded while she unzipped her coat.

_Was she doing this on purpose?_

Elliot busied himself getting out two glasses and pouring the red wine. She didn't specify what exactly she had wanted but he had a feeling that it would require a bit of courage. Wine would do the trick. He turned back to her and nearly dropped the glasses in his hand.

She was taking in the apartment. He hadn't heard her step away. It wasn't that she had moved that had him choking on his own breath.

_That dress._

Now he knew she was doing this on purpose. He had changed into something more comfortable and she had changed into a little black dress, complete with barely-there spaghetti straps and a hemline that danced on her mid-thigh. It was casual. It was just cotton. It wasn't formal but the way the fabric clung to her breasts had his throat burning with need.

_How does she expect me to be able to breathe…_

"Elliot," Olivia said again. Had she done something with her hair? She always looked beautiful. It looked as if she had run her fingers through the dark strands multiple times on her way over here.

_Wonder what the wine tastes like on her lips._

He cleared his throat, determined to concentrate on their discussion, and nothing else. "Let's sit." His fingers brushed her when he gave her the glass of wine. They sat together, close enough that her knees grazed his when she crossed her leg. His décor was simple. Most of it was pale grey, including the couch they sat on. Nothing in the room had quite the color he saw within her.

Olivia's eyes were portraying so many emotions. He needed to keep his head clear for this. But he saw need, worry, desire…

_Beauty._

"I think we should come up with some ground rules and try to figure out what exactly this is." There. He had said it. Maybe he would survive this. "I'm your Captain so this can't be broadcast anywhere. But I think you know," He reached with his free hand and stroked her bare arm. "That I want you." His voice grew dark with his last words.

Olivia chewed her lip. She seemed to be weighing the options set before her. He waited with bated breath for her to say something anything. They simultaneously took long draughts of their wine. "So we act normal at work," She finished her wine and set it down on the coffee table. "Only meet here," Her fingers skimmed along his arm that had been touching her. "No shop talk."

She was inching closer to his mouth. "No shop talk," He repeated back to her. "You know we could always…" Elliot trailed off, not believing he had even vocalized any other option.

"What, try to stay away from each other?" Olivia laughed. He loved how she looked truly carefree. The smile touched her eyes. She moved then – taking his glass and setting it down beside hers on the table. Her fingers came to adjust the hem of her dress and she straddled him.

_Christ._

"What do you say," He whispered, his mouth dangerously close to hers again. His hands found her small waist. The feeling of her on top of him was exquisite. Her eyes grew dark before him, and he knew that pretending nothing had happened would be far worse than what they were about to do.

Olivia's hands rubbed against his shirt while she explored his torso with her fingertips. The newness of a relationship always gave him a thrill but this was on another level. She was on another level. He wasn't going to be second again like he had been when she kissed him.

She had begun to level the playing field. He enjoyed her forwardness. She wasn't afraid of what she wanted. It excited him. His eyes darkened while he thought of how the tables were about to turn again. He needed her to know what he had planned for her.

Elliot planted open mouth kisses along her neck, just as he had done in his office. She moaned above him and rotated her hips as she came into contact with his hardening cock in jeans. He cupped the side of her neck with his hand, his thumb grazed over her windpipe. Her hands fisted his shirt hard and he listened to her shuttering breath.

_That response…_

He wasn't going to kiss her until she told him his answer.

She pulled him back just far enough that she could look into his eyes.

Elliot grinned.

He knew her answer already.

"I think we have a deal."

This time, Elliot kissed her.

_Just wait till you see what I have planned for you…_


	5. Chapter 5

He was taking control back.

Surely, she knew this would happen with their occupation and his rank – but she didn't realize how commanding he was over her body.

He curled his fingers in his hair with one hand, and with the other, he squeezed her ass.

She didn't even recognize the moans that were coming from her own mouth.

She was in trouble and she knew it.

_Fuck._

Elliot grumbled something about not having enough room and picked her up easily. Her legs wrapped around his waist tightly, as if they had done this before. As if she had been in this position, about to fuck her boss. She didn't give a rat's ass about the consequences anymore. Her vision had hollowed out and all she could see was him – on her, around her, inside of her.

His mouth found hers again and she could barely breathe. There was nothing sweet about the way he kissed her. Her lips would be swollen in the morning. His teeth sank into her bottom lip and she groaned deeply.

The feeling of his mouth sliding over hers again had sent another rush of adrenaline through her.

But she was steady – fearless.

The feeling flowed through her. She allowed herself to give into him, into this. Just once.

Her eyes opened for a split second while Elliot turned the light on. Olivia got a quick glance around the room; it was dark blue with a large bed in the middle. Everything was neat, tidy, orderly. His bedroom was unlike the rest of his apartment. In the living room and kitchen he had pictures of his children, a calendar marked with events and dates circled of activities for them.

The bedroom was different.

It was clearly a place the children never visited. His bedspread was darker than the walls. What really caught her eye was the two dressers. She had never seen a man need two – perhaps it was one for his street clothes, the other for work attire. But she scratched this idea, he would hang those clothes. She knew he would.

The second dresser was obviously bought at a different time as well. It was simple, black, elegant. There was a different quality to it than the first one – the first held his clothing that much she was sure of.

The second, she guessed, probably held much different things.

Before Olivia could get too distracted by the change in scenery, Elliot had thrown her on the bed. The straps of her dress had fallen down over her shoulders and she absentmindedly pulled them back up to their rightful place. She watched him with hungry eyes while he pulled his shirt off. Her eyes dragged over his tattoos. There were at least two that she could see – probably more when the rest of his clothes were off. His body was so imposing on hers. She was tall but petite, he was tall and broad, the muscles over his arms were especially intimidating.

His strength had taken her by surprise. From their time in the gym and knowing him since her time at SVU, she knew he was fit. He could keep up with her, maybe even outdo her. The power that must lie in his thighs and abdominals send another rush through her veins.

Her breath caught in her throat when Elliot crawled on top of her.

_This was it._

_No going back now._

There was silence between them now, only the rustling of the fabric against their bodies filling her ears. Her dress was the next to go. His fingers brushed against her upper thighs, then her waist, over her breasts and her head. He straddled her hips and began twisting the dress. She nearly asked what he was doing when she realized he had restrained her hands above her head with the dress. All she had left was a pair of black lace panties, having foregone a bra for an occasion like this. His eyes took her in as his fingers trailed down her skin.

She was bare for him then.

"Christ," He growled, his voice rougher than she had ever heard it before. Elliot was so clearly taking in the look of her laid out for him, and a blush rose to her already pink cheeks. She wanted to reach up and touch his reddened chest but she knew better. He had control. If she were being honest that alone turned her on more; the idea that she didn't need to be in control here with him. He could take the reins and she trusted him to do that. His presence ignited her in a way that was new and refreshing from all of the one night stands who had been intimidated by her or disappointed her in other ways.

_This was Elliot._

He kissed down her chest and took one of her hardened nipples into his mouth. Her hands unconsciously came down to stroke her lover's head, but he grabbed her elbow and put her arms back above her head.

"No touching," He ordered. She nodded and bit into her lip. "Grab the headboard." He added, giving her a stern look.

_He was not fucking around._

The thought made her moan. She obeyed him and gripped the iron above her head. He barely touched her, only allowing her to feel his mouth and the lightest scrape of his fingernails down her sides. As she arched her back, Elliot took off her panties and haphazardly threw them behind him.

He flattened himself out on the bed, spreading her bare legs. Her breathing stopped altogether when his mouth came into contact with her core.

"Fuck," Olivia groaned.

* * *

He didn't know how much longer he could hold onto his control.

She was being good; he'll give her that.

But Christ, her body was something else. She responded so easily to his touch. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he responded to hers just as easily. There was give and take he wasn't used to. Although he had maintained a record of bedding women that he would dominate, it wasn't as if he could do as he pleased. He couldn't push his limits or theirs.

With her it was different.

She was game for anything – any trick he had up his sleeve.

His palm was covering her left breast, tweaking her nipple and pinching it with every few laps of his tongue. Her moans were delicious. Slowly, he slid two fingers into her wet heat. Her walls were tight against him already.

_There's no way she can get off that easily…_

Elliot pumped his fingers into her and pulled his mouth away from her center. He bit and kissed his way along her thigh, leaving pink spots in his wake. She would be bruised.

She'd know she belonged to him now.

He had seen the way men had always looked at her. The same hunger in their eyes that he had looked at her with, only from the safe confines of his office. She was confident in herself; he loved that about her. He wondered if she knew how many men – and women for that matter – had ogled her, wanted her without even knowing a single thing about her.

"Elliot," Olivia moaned breathlessly. Christ, she was so sexy.

_Let the control slip away from you, Elliot…_

She was close to the edge. He moved faster, curling his fingers inside of her with every thrust. Her moans got higher and higher; she was nearly ready for him to tip her over the edge.

"Cum, Olivia," He grunted into the crux of her hip. She cried out when he suckled hard at her clit. He narrowed his eyes and watched her fall, crashing in waves underneath his steady movements. Eventually, the grip she had on his headboard began to loosen and the shaking of her legs began to subside. He smiled against her sensitive skin.

She had come completely undone in front of him.

Nothing turned him on more than this.

He trailed his hands back up her body and straddled her thighs once again, untwisting the dress around her wrists. He let it fall beside them on the bed and put one finger under her chin, bringing her mouth up to his. His tongue ran against hers and she groaned when she tasted herself.

With her newfound freedom, Olivia broke the kiss, taking to his belt and soon his pants. She pulled them down over his ass, freeing his aching cock from its enclosure. Elliot took a deep breath and held onto the top of the headboard.

He had bought the bed frame for a reason – it was tough.

The metal spindles could handle just about anything.

Below him, Olivia slid her tongue along the underside of his member. She stroked him with one hand, her other moving up to his taut stomach and chest. The feeling of her nails running down his abdomen sent a chill down his spine. His grip on the headboard tightened further when she took him in her mouth fully. She had no problem taking all of him in her mouth. He wasn't a small man by any means; he smiled to himself at the sight of her pink mouth wrapped around him. Her mouth moved up and down on him, her tongue twisting in ways that left him gasping for breath.

The last of his control was leaving him.

He inhaled shakily just as Olivia turned on him, pushing him off balance causing him to flip onto his back. She resumed her position with his cock in her mouth but at this angle, he was able to see her completely. Her perky breasts, her smooth back, her perfectly round ass. The view itself was nearly too much for him. Her eyes stayed on him; a playful but serious glint hidden in the deep brown irises.

"You're not the only one who's strong," She purred against the tip of his dick. He had truly underestimated how strong she was, that much he knew. He had slept with enough women in his life, but he had never slept with a fellow officer. His subordinate.

As quickly as his anxiety had set in, a wave of relief hit him. This would be different. The image of her mouth wrapped around him would be forever burned into his mind, but he also knew that they could be professional. He respected her work too much to throw it all away just to fuck her because she's gorgeous.

Without question, she was the most beautiful woman he had come across. That partnered with her gifted mind and smart mouth – she wasn't just someone he was going to fuck once.

_She was his now._

He felt himself nearing his climax and was not about to end the night that quickly. Elliot sat up and brought her lips off of his length. They were kneeling together on the bed and he kissed her, hungrily taking her full lip between his teeth. He pulled back and took in the look on her face; her swollen mouth, wide eyes, messy hair.

He quickly shifted behind Olivia, placing his hand flat against her back. His cock was poking at her entrance and he stilled. "Do you want this?"

She turned to look at him and whispered, "Yes."

With one fluid motion he was buried inside of her. They moaned in unison while Elliot grabbed a handful of her hair, fisting it between his fingers and pulling.

_Control? Gone._


	6. Chapter 6

He wouldn't ever recover from seeing her like this.

She was tighter than he had ever imagined. His hips slammed into her with such force that her skin rippled with every impact his body had on hers. Her hair was still bunched up in his hand, her neck craned back towards him. He blanketed her back with his chest and bit into the tender flesh of her shoulder.

Olivia was unlike any woman he had been with.

She took every thrust, every bite and kiss in stride, and she still wanted more.

He had met his match.

"Elliot," His name on her lips sounded so fucking good – especially now that her voice was choppy with the slam of his body into hers. He recognized that pitch; it was growing desperate. He slapped her ass hard; the shape of his fingers began to show in a bright pink mark. A smile broke out across his face. There was no way he was going to allow her to surrender that simply. He buried himself in her to the hilt and leaned into her ear. She was beginning to shake beneath him and whimpered when he stopped thrusting.

"Turn over." Olivia gave a disappointed moan, turning over onto her back. Quickly he was on top of her again, pushing into her abruptly. Her brows furrowed while she cried out, her nails scraping down his back. Her moans were rising up again and he was infatuated with how she could relinquish her control and give herself over to him.

"Don't cum until I tell you to," He instructed, lightly running his thumb over her throat. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes narrowed at him and she murmured yes.

_A challenge._

His hand gripped her neck lightly. "Tell me if it's too much." Olivia bit her lip and nodded gently. Elliot slid his tongue into her mouth and propelled himself into her over and over again. He felt her begin to let go and pulled back from her just enough to reach down and stroke her clit. Only applying a bit of pressure, he allowed some air to pass through – just enough to raise her so high that the crash would be phenomenal.

"Cum for me," He told her, watching her rigid neck under his hand as she mouthed his name, her walls tightening around him when she shattered. His palm let go and he grabbed her hip for leverage, pushing himself inside of her as far as he could go. She inhaled a deep breath and moaned, shuttering almost violently. He watched her, committing the expression on her face to memory as she came around him, for him.

"Fuck," Olivia grated, dragging her nails down his back. He was filled with pride, having made her cum that hard. His pace faltered and he fell over the edge as her orgasm began to subside. Her walls had pulled him there – the squeezing had finally pushed him to his limit. He set his jaw tightly and spilled inside of her, grunting her name. Her eyes were blazing, wide and wild. He could see that behind her eyes she was memorizing his expression, just as he had done with hers.

Elliot knew then that tonight would not be the only night this would happen. He had just had sex with someone who was on a level playing field with him. Slowly, he descended to lay in the bed beside her and catch his breath.

He had always challenged her at work, he knew she was a remarkable detective. Here in his bedroom she held onto that tenacity, that work ethic that he had originally found so attractive in her. It seemed to blossom and flourish – she played her cards close to her chest and always fought for what she wanted. It made her unbelievably sexy to him.

Within a few moments, Olivia stood up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. He put his arm behind his head and cocked his head to the side, watching the sway of her hips when she turned the faucet in the shower on and walked back towards him. She stood in the doorway and bit into her index finger, her eyes lingering on his lower half.

"Coming?"

* * *

_Both of them were sweaty messes and she didn't mind the opportunity to continue to ogle Elliot in his naked glory. Under the water, Elliot had kissed her deeply. She had wrapped herself up in him, letting her fingers dance over his chest and abs. He had run his hands through her hair, cupping her face softly as they explored each other's mouths._

_In their post-coital bliss, they were gentle, forgiving – everything they hadn't been earlier._

_When they were done with the shower they stood in front of his foggy bathroom mirror. Olivia smirked at him in the blurred image in the mirror and ran her fingers over his love bites that now marked her skin._

" _Sorry," He whispered, pressing light kisses along the darkened spots. His arms wrapped around her towel-clad body, enveloping her with his muscular arms. She tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes, reminiscing the feeling of him around her like this._

_She grinned back at him in the mirror. "No you're not," She replied, winking at him in the reflection._

" _You're right." Elliot kissed her neck. He was in control of himself again, the animal that she had seen less than an hour ago seemed to be tucked back away. She liked the ying and the yang; the difference between who he was when he was exposed, open for her. If she were being truthful with herself, she knew that she liked the darker parts of him just as much as the light._

_Elliot knew what he wanted. So he took her._

_It reminded her so much of herself. She had been with men before, that much wasn't a secret. But she knew that there were parts of her she had only allowed herself to see. Letting someone else have power over wasn't something she did lightly. Yet with him she had allowed it, and the feeling was natural. She hadn't had a chance to fully show him her dark side and pondered if he could handle it._

_She knew in the morning that they would have to go back to work and pretend that this didn't exist. There was no Elliot or Olivia, it was Captain Stabler and Detective Benson. He was her boss. She would have to push aside the memories of him staring down at her as she came, the feeling of him between her legs…_

_That particular feeling had yet to leave her._

_She could still feel as though he were still there, pounding into her, the heat rising through her body._

After they were done in the bathroom, Olivia began to put her wrinkled dress back on. She was mentally preparing herself for the feelings that would bubble up as she left, and the days to come. To her, there would be no problem keeping everything under wraps. She was hardly concerned about that. No regret in her heart or mind. However, there wasn't a guarantee the next time it was going to happen.

That had her feeling uneasy. She ran a hand through her damp hair and sighed, knowing she would need to put it up later.

"Did you think we were done here?" Elliot calmly said to her as she walked out of his bedroom. He was sitting at his kitchen table in his boxers, sipping whiskey from a tumbler glass. He looked like a statue as if he were carved just to appease her darkest desires. His pager was glowing inside his open gym bag and Olivia figured he must have just checked it to see if there were any alerts, having been otherwise occupied with her for the last few hours.

Olivia smirked. "I didn't know if you'd be able to keep up." She bent over to retrieve her purse from the ground where she left it earlier in the night.

"I was just getting started with you," He murmured, his eyes grew darker when he looked at the skin exposed from her black dress. His arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her on top of his lap. She straddled him on the chair, dropping her purse beside them. Her smirk grew as his eyes landed on the silver cuffs she'd pulled from the bag.

She could see a tempting droplet of liquor on his bottom lip. He placed the glass back onto the table without taking his eyes off of her. Her heart began to quicken and she mentally chastised herself; she shouldn't be so taken with him so fast. His hands came up to grip her ass.

Olivia relished the chase with him. Their consistent battle of teasing and flirting opened something within her. She knew this was dangerous to run around with him like this but they were caught, in too deep with no room to breathe. This perfect bubble that they existed in would eventually pop but for now, she savored these hidden moments they shared.

He made her feel more confident than she ever had. The way his eyes became almost black around her created a surge of power that flowed through to her core. She pressed the cold steel against his chest and gently rocked her hips back and forth. There was something magnetic between them she couldn't quite put a finger on – he drew her in effortlessly.

Elliot leaned in, his cheek brushing against hers. "You gonna use those on me?" He growled into her mouth. Their lips touched briefing when Olivia nodded. Her heart was pounding then. She had him in her grasp – her captain. She was about to flip the table and take control, shed some light on the darkest of her desires.

"Then do it," His voice was raspy, she noticed every time they were this close his voice became rough as if he had to stop himself from simply grunting at her.

They were so close now she could feel the heat coming off of his naked chest. His hands tightened around her waist, slowly pulling her forward.

She saw the look in his eyes.

He was egging her on.

Betting that she wouldn't do it.

Her hand slid from his chest to his wrist and she began to close the cuff over his skin.

Inside Elliot's gym bag, his pager went off.

_**New case in Central Park.** _


	7. Chapter 7

The humidity was stifling.

She was careful getting dressed and ready to go back out to meet Monique at the scene. Her usual tank top and suit coat wouldn't do with the marks on her skin. She found a plain light blue t-shirt to go under her black suit jacket and slacks.

Even though it was just a few more inches of fabric, she was cursing herself. It was just after three o'clock in the morning and it was still too warm for her liking. She enjoyed the heat, the way it settled into her bones and made her skin glow. Normally she would want to be at a beach or somewhere she could wear the bare minimum.

Tonight, she couldn't.

Olivia flashed her badge at the uniformed officer guarding the perimeter of the scene and walked to Monique's side. "Morning," She handed her partner one of the two coffees she had picked up along the way. Monique never faltered in her coffee order; three sweeteners, no cream.

At first, Olivia was astonished at the lack of ingredients, she had always packed hers with anything to take the edge of bitterness off. After six months partnered with Monique, she understood. When they were busy with work, there was no need for cream, she could never drink her coffee before it got cold. They were always rushing and she just needed a tiny bit of flavor to smooth out the liquid while she gulped it down in the few spares seconds they had.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw broad shoulders in a dark colored suit. Elliot was coming towards them, having just spoken with one of the crime scene analysts. He kept his distance, stopping a few feet from where the two women stood. She locked eyes with him for an instance – she watched as he set his jaw and drew a long breath in.

"Thought you might've gotten lost," Monique flashed a smile and stood up from where she had been crouching. "Did you get any sleep?" She adds, looking closely at Olivia.

She glanced momentarily at her captain. "Not much," Olivia brought her coffee to her lips, a few moments of her night flashing through her mind. Her eyes closed and she shook her head. There was no way she was allowing herself to think about everything that had happened earlier in the night.

When he was buried deep inside of her, something had changed.

Monique could probably sense it.

Olivia definitely could.

* * *

It had been a fast-paced week for her.

She had slept in the cribs nearly the entire week, switching off with Monique.

It was a catch-22. There was no time for her to go home and sleep in her own bed. However, there was also so little time she was able to push away any intrusive thoughts.

They were near the end of their case, having nearly completed the investigation and finding their perps apartment, which they were situated outside of. They were waiting for him to leave or any movement so they could move in and arrest him.

Monique was in the driver's seat staring out her window looking bored. "So," She started, turning to look at Olivia. "Are you going to tell me who he is?"

Olivia's jaw went a little slack at her question, but she recovered and continued looking out her window. "No," Her mouth pressed together in a tight line.

_Christ, Monique was a good detective._

Monique gently elbowed her partner. "Olivia, I don't give a shit who he is," She brought her binoculars up to her eyes and looked past Olivia at the apartment building. "As long as he treats you right."

She looked over at Monique, a small smile on playing on her lips. There was an unspoken bond and mutual respect that floated between them. They knew whatever was going on in each other's lives they would tell each other when the time was right. If the time never came that was okay. It was never a sore spot and they never ran out of things to discuss regardless. There were nights they had spent in the squad car barely able to contain their laughter. Their friendship was easy, effortless.

"Thank you."

They both smiled at each other.

* * *

She was finally home.

The first thing she did was take a long shower. There wasn't much more that was comforting to her than the heat of the water and the knowledge she would sleep soundlessly in the comfort of her own bed.

She popped the top on a beer from her fridge and stood with her back against her stove. She wouldn't allow herself to sit on the couch – she knew if she sat down she would fall asleep right then and there. After a case, she always allowed herself time to decompress. Every time it was different, but one thing was always the same.

No sleeping until she allowed herself to feel every feeling that came forward during the case.

Tonight, she stood with her beer and did just that.

Her fingertips dug into the flesh in her neck. The cribs were not exactly comfortable for sleeping – the pillows were lumpy, the cots had metal pieces that poked up at random spots. By the end of the week, she had beaten her favorite bunk to be somewhat comfortable and even that was a stretch. She was sore.

She was aching.

For more than one reason.

Someone knocked on her door. Instinctively she thought about where her service weapon was, tucked away with her badge on the kitchen table. Her fingers fumbled to further close her satin robe as she walked the few feet to the door.

Through the peephole she could see dark blue eyes, a black long sleeve shirt stretched over a large frame.

_Elliot._

She opened her door too quickly, ushering him into her apartment. "Elliot," She whispered, taking another swig from her beer and placing it on her kitchen counter. Olivia opened the fridge and pulled out a beer for him. "What are you doing here? I thought-"

"I know the rule," He interrupted her. The look in his eyes while he looked at her in the robe made her breath stop short. He popped the top and drained half the bottle in seconds. "I couldn't sleep."

He set his beer on the counter beside hers. His eyes narrowed on her mouth and he backed her into the corner of the kitchen, clutching the granite on either side of her body. "You broke a rule," Olivia stammered, his proximity was distracting her.

Maybe that was his intention.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he confessed in a low voice. "The way you moan my name," His mouth dropped to her neck. "The way you come for me," He pulled apart the knot in her robe, letting the satin fall loosely on her shoulders. She hadn't bothered putting on anything underneath as she was about to go to sleep. His hands were all over her; cupping her breasts, squeezing her waist.

He pulled back to push the fabric completely off of her. His mouth curled into a smug smile. "I see these have improved…" Elliot trailed off, running his fingers lightly over the marks on her skin.

It was so different from their work interactions. They were stiff, professional – yet here he was anything but. The whole week they only had micro-interactions in front of the team. They were never alone together. Never stood too close. Never touched.

Olivia kissed him, pulling up his shirt. His hands covered hers and stopped her from pulling it over his head. "I'm here for you," He murmured against her mouth.

Elliot lifted her by her waist onto the counter and kissed her. She poured all of her yearning from the past week, every stolen glance into him. Their tongues tasted each other for the first time since the week prior and he moaned into her mouth. He moved one hand to her back to hold her against him and the other to her sensitive core. She gasped when his mouth moved just under her ear. His mouth skimmed along her neck, sending a rush through her body.

He was gentle tonight, he seemed to be savoring the feeling. A single finger slid into her wet heat, curling and prodding. Testing the waters. He cursed against her neck. "You're so wet." He was breathless, his voice barely audible. She let her head fall back against the cabinets, whimpering as his index finger twisted inside of her. His hand left her for a moment while he descended to his knees before her.

"Fuck," She cried, his mouth and tongue exploring the junction of her thighs. He knew his way around her in this intimate way. His tongue drew out moans from deep in her belly, every swipe across her clitoris caused her legs to involuntarily shake. Desperately she raked her fingers through his hair, grabbing at the short strands to pull him closer.

"Please," Olivia moaned, her hands caressing his head. Elliot used his free hand to undo the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down. He shed his shirt quickly and stood up, rubbing his cock against her.

Olivia rocked her hips back and forth. She needed the pressure; the release her body craved was smoldering inside of her. A frenzy had begun through all her nerve endings. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders for balance and for the second time, he sunk into her. Elliot captured her moans as he kissed her, thrusting into her with quick, strong thrusts.

He must have sensed her need.

Each roll of his hips hit her pubic bone _just right_.

"Olivia," He grunted, his hands burning into the skin on her hips. Tonight wasn't about limits or drawing out an experience. They needed one another; it was primal, primitive need between two lovers. The week had taken its toll on both of them and it's why he was here, fucking into her with no boundaries or restraints.

She bit into his right shoulder hard. His left hand slammed against her cupboards and he growled into her ear. His moans were melting together, swirling in her ears and it sent her over the edge. Her teeth sunk deeper into his shoulder, coming around him. She pulled him in with her and he slammed his hips into hers, releasing as he swore over and over.

* * *

Later in the night, she woke with his strong arms wrapped around her.

His naked body was pressed against hers and she relished in the feeling of the safety he provided her in these little moments. She breathed in his scent, closing her eyes. A low burn had started again in the pit of her stomach. When it came to him, it seemed she was insatiable. Her mind filtered through the night, remembering the fire in his eyes when he stepped in the door.

Olivia smiled to herself. She had a plan.

When Elliot woke up in just a few moments, he wouldn't know what had hit him.


	8. Chapter 8

She didn't know how he hadn't woken up yet.

His scent was all around her when she was laying with him; she knew that it wouldn't leave any time soon. The thought put a small smile on her face. The clock had told her it was just after three.

But she was wide awake.

The leather strap she held in her hand was built for durability. It was built to hold someone in their place. They usually spent all their time held in a box in her closet. The set up was simple, it took no time to attach the cuffs to the legs of her bed frame.

She closed it over his ankle, still marveling at how he hadn't stirred one bit. His military service must have engrained the ability to sleep anywhere and through anything, she figured. She was jealous of that. Any bump in the night would wake her. Sometimes she would be so tired she would sleep through the small noises that came from her apartment building, but most nights she would wake two or three times.

Despite her allowing herself to feel everything that the case had forced out of her, sometimes she would still stare at the wall; unable to close her eyes and shut off her mind to the things she had seen.

_One limb left._

She had barely needed to move him to fit the straps over his limbs. Once she left the bed he had flipped onto his back, his arms and legs spread out perfectly for her plans. He seemed relaxed and peaceful, just a flat sheet covering his lower half. Her eyes flickered over the edges of his jaw. She loved it when he flexed it as he spoke to her, it was his tell.

Whenever his jaw flexed, he was struggling to control himself. She bit back a laugh. There was no control for him now.

The bed dipped as she sat on the bed.

She ran her fingernail from his collarbone down to his lower stomach.

"Hey," he whispered groggily. His eyes blinked a couple of times and he pulled his right arm towards himself.

It didn't move.

"Olivia," his eyes searched hers for answers, his brows furrowing together as he became acquainted with his surroundings. He tugged hard at all four of the restraints, his muscles bulging with effort. "What are you doing?"

She crawled over him, bracing herself with her arms. Only the side of her thigh was touching his hip. Tonight she would restrict where she would touch him and deny his right to touch her altogether. "You broke a rule, Elliot," she taunted, leaning into him. His back bowed as he tried to get closer to her, but the restraints held him back against the sheets.

"Let me go," he thrashed again.

She dipped her head down, her mouth nearly against his as she spoke. "No," she smiled as he groaned. He leaned his head back and she watched as the heat rose to his cheeks and then his chest. His eyes fell on her again and his cheeks lifted just slightly, letting her know that he would fight this all the way – but he was into it. Olivia retracted herself from him and moved down, pulling the sheet completely off of him.

If his flush hadn't told her that he was turned on by this already, his hard cock would have. She let her fingernails scrape up his left calf to his muscular thigh, merely missing his length by a hair. She let him groan and pull against the leather repeatedly while she teased him with her nails. Her gaze fell upon his twitching member. His size had taken her back when they first were intimate. It left her gasping for air that night, clutching at anything she could get her hands on as he took her roughly.

Her knees bumped against his inner thighs as she flattened herself out between his legs. Elliot groaned again and she knew now he was desperate to touch her, to dominate her. "Promise I'll behave if you let me out of these," he drawled, softening his eyes at her.

Olivia chuckled softly. "Have you ever had to give up control, Elliot?" her mouth was dangerously close to his dick now. He didn't speak, only shook his head side to side. "Let's see how you like being told what to do."

She ran her tongue along his length, careful not to touch him anywhere else. The only sensations she wanted him to feel were her mouth. Slowly, her mouth closed over him. Her tongue twirled around the head, flicking and switching directions. His legs twitched beneath her in response. She knew the effect her mouth had on men, she prided herself in making them call out her name and be completely at her mercy. Getting on her knees for Elliot while he wasn't able to touch her was the ultimate power move.

"Fuck," he moaned, pulling on his restraints again. Her mouth bobbed up and down over him, taking him until her nose brushed against his cropped pubic hair. The sounds that were emitting from him were hitting her right between her legs. She rose to her knees and wrapped her hand around him under her mouth, squeezing as she manipulated his cock with her mouth and palm.

His breathing was beginning to accelerate. "Don't come until I tell you to," she instructed. "Understood?" the authority in her voice permeated around the room. Olivia cradled his balls in her hand, gently massaging the tender skin. He gasped as she kept up her movements and took him in her mouth again, her saliva coating him as she slid up and down.

"Yes ma'am," he mocked her. An arrogant smile spread across his face.

He still hadn't learned his lesson. She knew he would be tough to break. He was testing her will.

She wasn't having any of it.

Her hands fell away from him. She sat up on her knees and smoothed her hands out over her breasts, pulling at one of her nipples. Her bottom lip was between her teeth and she watched him grapple with his inability to move. With one hand, she trailed her delicate fingers down herself until she touched her core, her breath halting at the sensation.

Elliot struggled even harder against his restrictions.

_Now he's beginning to break._

"Stop," she warned him. He stilled, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Who are you when you're not in control?" Olivia taunted him again.

"I'll remember this," he growled.

_She was betting on that._

"Good."

There was a part of her that enjoyed his intolerance to being out of command of the situation. She liked taking the reins back, putting him in a situation he clearly had never been in before. But something told her that he was already planning his payback. Always the alpha, he had never been at the mercy of a woman like this.

Like her.

Olivia straddled him, placing one hand on his chest and one between her legs, lining him up at her entrance. Her eyes were locked on him and she watched as his chest rose and fell quickly. Even in the dim light of her bedroom, she could see that he was finally beginning to learn his lesson. Painstakingly slow, she sunk down onto him. He was chewing his lower lip, she assumed he was biting back his moans to not give her the satisfaction of hearing them.

"You broke a rule," she repeated. "And actions…" she trailed off, her eyes fluttering closed as her hips met his and he was buried inside of her as far as he could go. "Have consequences."

He no longer fought against the cuffs, instead, he raised his hips to meet hers with every pass of her lower half over him. His thrusts were gentle and tempered, he knew if he tried anything with her, he would face her wrath again. She was incinerating him with her domination – her control.

Olivia raked her fingers down his chest, leaving pink streaks in their wake. The angle she was circling her hips at allowed her to feel every inch of him in her, touching parts of her that made the blood rise to her cheeks.

This was one of her favorite positions. She was young and fit and had the endurance to do this for as long as her lover could hold out. It allowed her to push her limits while giving him intense pleasure mixed with the sight of her moving above him. She clenched her taut stomach as she tightened her grip on his hips, using him to balance herself. Her pace quickened and she felt the unavoidable rise in pressure, she knew she only had moments before she would be over the edge.

"Don't come," she ordered. All he could do was nod to her in acknowledgment. A vein in his neck was protruding and pulsing against his skin, his mouth open as grunts and moans escaped without any end in sight. His hips raised to meet hers and hit her _right there_ and she was gone.

Olivia threw her head back and cried out, her orgasm causing her body to twitch and jaggedly sway above him. She kept riding him as she came down, determined to see this through.

To see him through to the end.

* * *

He couldn't believe she had pulled this off.

Not that he could ever underestimate her, she constantly surprised him. Her persistence and determination turned him on. In the deepest part of the night, she had proven herself yet again as someone who consistently went after the things she wanted.

Tonight, she wanted justice. To even the score.

He had broken an important rule – he knew that now.

His faith in the notion that she; younger, fiercer, more patient than he could dream of, was his equal was solidified.

She had come twice, writhing and rolling her hips over and over. His eyes were screwed shut so tight as he willed himself not to go with her and give in to the overwhelming sensation of her wet heat. Finally, after she was teetering on the brink of her third orgasm, she whispered the words he was begging to hear.

"Do you want to come?" her voice was higher than usual.

"Yes," he watched her lean down to his mouth again.

"Then come," she moaned, speeding up her pace.

They fell together, her mouth sealing over his. He grunted into her mouth as his body convulsed almost violently under her.

He was sure that he'd never come that hard before in his life.

After she had freed him of his restraints, she laid her head against his chest and he breathed in the scent of her hair. He kept his arms tight around her and allowed his senses to wrap around the smells that were uniquely her. Ideas began to float around his mind of how he could begin to one-up her antics.

He was nearly asleep again when her phone rang.

Olivia reached over him to the bedside table and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" she whispered. She was obviously trying to make it seem like she had just been sleeping. He wondered what the reaction of her caller would be if they knew what she had been up to a few minutes ago.

"Cassidy, it's four in the morning," she whined.

_Why the fuck was he calling?_

"Okay," she responded. He tried to listen to what Cassidy was saying on the phone but couldn't make out anything distinct. "Um, no-" he had obviously cut her off from speaking. "Are you drunk?" he heard a low laugh from the phone.

He was _not happy._

"I'm not interested." Olivia sat up, her brows knitting together. "Because I have other things on my mind. Yeah. Goodbye." She clicked the end button and replaced the phone on the holder.

Olivia turned to look back at Elliot.

"Cassidy just asked me out."


	9. Chapter 9

She was going to kill Monique.

Maybe it was because they were best friends, or maybe just because they were partners and knew each other well. But she could always tell when Monique was holding back laughter. She was professional as anyone else in the squad, but when the action died down and she let her personality come through, Olivia could see right through her.

The paper that Monique was holding in front of her face was shaking. Behind it, Olivia knew she was laughing. They were all sitting at their respective desks. Olivia was leaning over her file, paperwork spread neatly across the desk in an organized fashion. She was squeezing a foam baseball that she kept in her desk for when she needed something to distract herself. There was work to be done but unfortunately, Cassidy was sitting on the form she needed to complete.

So, she was going to kill Monique.

"You know, Olivia," Brian started. "The view from the rooftop of my building is beautiful at night." She rolled her eyes and scanned the bullpen. Monique was trying very hard to pay attention to her file, but Olivia could see her cheeks were still raised from laughing. Elliot was looking through the door of his office right at her. She shifted her gaze back down to her paperwork.

A chill ran down her spine.

He did not look pleased.

There was still anger simmering between her and Elliot from the other night when Cassidy had called. He wouldn't fess up and tell her it bothered him, and she wasn't about to give in to him and apologize for her coworker's drunken call in the early hours of the morning.

"Must be nice," she deflected, trying to let him down nicely. He had been sitting at her desk for over five minutes trying to muster up some kind of conversation, but outside of work they had absolutely nothing in common. He was trying hard; she could give him that. There was no attraction from her towards Brian. It was nothing against him – he was a great detective and a good coworker. He always had her and Monique's backs. But he was like a kid brother to her. He was a couple years older than her, but Olivia knew in terms of emotional maturity, Cassidy had yet to catch up to Olivia. Even after being in the unit for longer than her, he still wasn't at that point.

"Well, you should-"

Monique sat up straighter. "Captain's coming," she interrupted Cassidy's second failed attempt to ask her out. Olivia gave a thankful look at her partner and Monique had one last snort of laughter before returning to her work.

She could feel him before she saw him.

"Benson, can I speak with you in my office?" Elliot said, his voice resembling the same stiffness she had heard before.

Before she started screwing him.

Olivia flashed a confused look to Monique who mirrored the expression and rose from her chair to follow him into the office. He closed the door behind her, and she noticed it was darker in the office than she was used to.

He had closed the blinds before talking to her.

_Shit._

"Is Cassidy still flirting with you?" he demanded, his eyes burning into her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "No, Captain." She lied.

Elliot stepped so close to her she could feel the heat coming from his skin. "I'm not asking as your captain," he growled, his voice growing lower with each word he spoke. "I'm asking as the man who's fucking you."

It hit her right between her legs.

Olivia laughed and ran a hand down her face. "Are you jealous?" she whispered, her eyes dropping to his mouth. In her peripheral vision, she could see his hand clench at his side. She affected him in similar ways that he affected her, and the second she looked at his mouth she knew she was testing his resolve.

His lips curled back from his teeth. "Quit deflecting, Olivia," he spat. He wasn't about to let this go or forget about it. His dedication to a task was enviable. Finding a cop with that razor-sharp focus was rare.

"It doesn't matter," she responded.

"Like hell it does." His voice was cutting through her.

Olivia was quiet for a moment. "Do you seriously think I would fuck a guy like Cassidy?" He was being ridiculous and she wasn't having any of it.

She couldn't quite read his expression. He had turned to stone in front of her. Only his eyes moved over the planes of her face, down to her mouth. She knew here in the office was no place for this kind of conversation. They wouldn't be able to do the things they wanted or needed during this argument. "I don't know," he glowered.

Olivia rolled her eyes.

"Yes, you do." She retorted. There was no way she would to give into him. Not today. Not ever. She met his eyes again and breathed him and his arrogance in. The intensity of their relationship hadn't given her the chance to fully appreciate how alluring his scent was. It matched his demeanor around her; seductive, enticing.

He leaned into her ear. "I'm the only man who's fucking you."

Another shiver ran down Olivia's spine.

"Yes Captain," she crooned back to him.

She could practically hear him smile.

* * *

His apartment's elevator was so slow.

Maybe it was that every time she was here, her heart was racing with anticipation. That every time she stepped off the elevator at his floor, she was taking another step outside of her comfort zone.

His presence in her life had changed so dramatically that it terrified her. She couldn't ever remember knowing someone who brought her to such heights, challenged her in ways she would have never thought of. There was a small voice inside of her that told her she did the same thing to him.

She was the gasoline; he was the open flame.

Maybe the elevator was just too fucking slow.

It finally dinged her arrival, and she stepped out, turning right down the hall. She shouldn't know her way around here, but she does. The self-destructive part of her smiled. She knocked to be polite, but if she were being candid with herself, she wanted to knock down his door.

Olivia bowed her head and listened to the light padding of his feet on the floorboards. She picked at a loose thread on her jean shorts. Normally she wouldn't go out in them anywhere but the beach or perhaps an outdoor brunch with Monique, but today had been especially warm. Her deep red tank top was no better, the straps were thin and the fabric didn't even touch the top of her jeans. She worked hard for her body and tonight she was especially confident – buzzing with the need in her veins to confront him in private.

_Breathe._

He opened the door to greet her. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. He stood there in front of her, shirtless and sweaty. Only he would look so fucking good after a long day at work. His shorts hung dangerously low on his waist, the muscles in his abdominals were nothing compared to the sight of the carved obliques covering his hips.

"You just gonna stand there staring or are you coming in?" His eyes dragged over her bare legs.

_Take it in, Stabler. Let it disarm you._

She strode past him into his living room. A flush rose to her skin as she looked at his couch where she had started their sordid affair. On the coffee table were a bottle of water and a towel. The water was nearly gone and the towel was damp; he had been at this for a while. Perhaps he was working out his frustrations. She understood that.

All too well.

He stood right behind her but she never turned to face him. He was too magnetic. She needed to speak before she lost her nerve. "I'm still pissed at you," she hissed.

His voice was right in her ear but he didn't touch her. "I know." The tone of his voice was so arrogant it just made her even more mad.

"You don't get to be jealous," she bit, goosebumps spreading down her arms. She could feel how close he had gotten. If he even breathed deeply, he would touch her.

His breath hit the back of her neck. "Why not?" Elliot questioned. She ground her teeth together.

"I'm not yours to be jealous of." She rebuked him. He wasn't playing fair.

He wasn't playing by the _rules_ of their game.

Her eyes focused on his couch. "Then be mine," he rasped. She must have misheard him.

_What?_

She stilled in front of him. Her breathing had stopped. His palms twisted her hips until she was turned to face him. Elliot's hand cupped her chin and brought her eyes to his. "Fine," Olivia whispered. "I'll let you be a possessive asshole."

He smiled proudly. "A possessive asshole would have you bent over that couch," he corrected. His eyes were impossibly dark now.

"Then do it."


	10. Chapter 10

There was no space left between them.

No room for her to escape. No ability to run; to convince herself she was just fucking this man because he was a good lay. Out of convenience. He had undeniably broken down every single defense mechanism she had laid out before him. There was no fight left in her. She wondered if she had even fought it in the first place.

There was no remorse that swelled within her conscience, no need to repent her sins. She felt as though she were underwater but she had never breathed deeper; never felt more refreshed. More alive.

His mouth had come down on hers hard as soon as she said the words.

_Then do it._

She had rattled something loose within him. Her mind was hazy; she couldn't remember why she had even come to his place in the first. None of it mattered now. His hands dance under her tank top, his thumbs skimming across the bottom of her bra and spread out to her back. He made quick work of the clasps and brought her shirt and bra up to her armpits and only stopped kissing her long enough to pull the material fully off of her body. He stripped her, body and soul.

Elliot's mouth trailed down to her breast and captured her nipple between his lips. Her eyes were only open in flashes; all she could see was the couch, his large back, his hands, his eyes. He watched her, the pride so evident on his features even as the bottom half of his face was obstructed by her breast. His hands cupped her ass and pulled her close to him. Lightly, he scraped his teeth over the bud, eliciting a moan from Olivia.

_He was far too talented with his mouth for his own good._

"Olivia," he whispered his breath on her skin cooling her wet nipple. "I'm not going to be gentle." Elliot was warning her early so she could prepare herself. His hands wandered to the front of her jeans, popping open the button at a frustratingly slow pace. He turned her around in an instant; pulling her back against his chest. His hand lowered until it was inside her jeans, underneath her panties. He moved his index and middle finger against her clit in circles. His other hand held her to him, his palm covering her breast again.

"I wasn't expecting you to be," her voice was breathier than she anticipated. She didn't want him to think she would be putty in his hands for him to mold, but she was.

"Good," he kissed her neck. There was no secret between them that she enjoyed the rougher edges of him. That his power and dominance made her throb between her legs more than she had with any other man. With her bare back resting against his slick chest, his hand in her jean shorts, she knew this more than ever. "You interrupted my workout," he said between passes of his mouth under her ear. "There will be punishments."

Olivia watched his arm move. The thick muscles twitched with every swipe of his digits and she grabbed behind her, clawing at his sweatpants. His erection poked at her lower back and she needed him inside of her, filling and stretching her. Her head fell back onto his shoulder as his finger dipped into her. Elliot continued to watch her fight with her body's reaction. She was wanton for him; ready for the taking.

His free hand fell from her chest and pulled her shorts and panties down in one fluid motion. She stepped out of the last of her clothing as quickly as she had stepped out of her comfort zone to be with him.

There wasn't a moment in her life where she could recall ever wanting to be exactly where she was so bad. Usually, she wanted to jump ahead, skip difficult moments or cases. This time, Olivia wanted to feel every touch, listen to every sound that came from him. Elliot's hand urged her to bend over the couch she stood in front of and she heard the rustle of his sweatpants being lowered. Her arms stretched out in front of her and she felt the cushion against her hardened nipples.

_I'm not going to be gentle._

Elliot seized her hips and thrust into her abruptly. "Fuck," she groaned into the couch. The pace he began was relentless. Each slam of his body into hers he grunted. He stilled and leaned over her, grasping both of her wrists and pulling them back behind her.

His feet kicked at hers until she did what he wanted and put her feet together, further tightening her around his cock. With a single hand, he held them there and began fucking into her again, the sounds coming from him bordering on animalistic. "So tight," he groaned. He slapped her ass hard and she cried out, the pain mixing with his pace had begun to disintegrate her resolve. Her forehead was rubbing against the fabric of the cushion as he pounded into her. She was climbing higher and higher – neither of them was going to last long.

She knew with him this wouldn't be the last time he would be with her tonight. In the early morning, he will roll on top of her and fuck her while the sun rose. He wouldn't stop. Neither would she.

"You're mine." His voice was intense; commanding. He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled roughly, forcing her neck to arch back toward him. "You're mine," he repeated.

_Nearly there now._

"Yes," she confirmed as he slammed into her. His possessiveness sent a new surge of wetness between her legs and he laughed cockily, increasing the brutality of him plunging into her.

His mouth found her shoulder and he bit the flesh hard. Tonight he didn't soothe her skin with his tongue, nor did he let up the pressure of his teeth against her. He was unapologetic and punishing, and she shattered around him when he bit a second time. Her senses were overloaded, her crescendo was in freefall now.

"Fuck yes," he moaned, letting go of her shoulder at the feeling of her squeezing him. Her legs quaked and vibrated, the intensity of her orgasm completely overtaking her. His grip on her hands only tightened and he thrust a few more times before spilling into her with one final hit of his body on hers.

"Elliot…"

* * *

His bathtub was spacious even by New York standards.

It stood adjacent to the shower she had occupied with him before. His bathroom was all white, clean, and shiny. Just like the rest of the apartment, everything had its place. He was neat and tidy in every aspect of his life.

Except maybe her.

Elliot was situated behind her, his left hand rubbing absentmindedly along her slick back. His right hand held a glass of wine that matched hers. She had nearly laughed when he pulled her into the bathroom with him and the wine – there had never been any inkling from his behavior that he would enjoy a soak in the tub. With or without her.

The boldness of the gesture surprised and amused her greatly. He had fucked her with ferocity; there was no indication of gentleness. Now he was sated and relaxed. He had even laughed at her shocked expression.

His legs were encased around her body, the hair on his limbs floating beneath the water. She sat forward hugging her knees with her left hand, her eyes closed as she just felt his fingers against her skin. Up and down, he repeated the action continually.

She wasn't even looking at him and it was the closest she had ever felt to him.

"Come here," he hummed. Olivia unlocked her arm from her knees and leaned back against his wet chest. His mouth rested just behind her ear, his nose was in her slick hair. Her eyes remained close. She allowed herself to just be present and be with him in this way.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" she was quiet, her voice only audible because of the echo in the tub. He didn't open his mouth, instead just drawing out an approving sound from his throat. "Why are you divorced?"

She felt him cock his head a little to the side to read her expression. "My marriage," he started. "I got her pregnant at seventeen. We got married, had three more kids after that. It wasn't…" he trailed off trying to find the correct wording. His mouth was on her ear as he spoke again. "It wasn't passionate."

_But it is with you._

He used his free hand to pull away some of the hair that had fallen in front of her ear back to her neck. His voice was soft in her ear. "Why were you single?" he questioned.

A small smile played at her lips. "The job is a big reason," she sipped her pinot grigio. "But there was never that chemistry I needed. No one ever surprised me or did something I couldn't anticipate."

_Until you._

He hummed again in acknowledgment. "Tell me," she whispered. "What's in your second dresser?"

Elliot laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. "You caught that, huh." He laughed again, pulling her closer. "You'll have to see for yourself."

Olivia grinned to herself.

She _would._


	11. Chapter 11

He stopped breathing altogether a few moments ago.

The second she stepped into his bedroom with just a towel wrapped around her slim body, he was screwed. Maybe after all this time of fucking her, marking her – being a territorial asshole, she'll leave him when her eyes land on their intended goal.

The thought of her looking in his dresser had amused him at first. She was good at reading people, good at noticing things that don't particularly stand out to the untrained eye. His dresser matched his décor but was newer, shinier, darker. She would have picked this out anywhere.

She was a few inches shorter than him but she looked more dangerous than ever.

Her damp hair clung to the back of her neck, the ends were beginning to stick up as they dried. The hair barely moved when she turned back to him to give him one last look before she opened the first drawer. He stood behind her silently with an iron grip on the towel around his waist. Her fingers gently prodded the wood towards herself.

Her cheeks lifted.

Perhaps he wasn't as fucked as he originally thought.

"These look brand new," she whispered, her voice hinting at her amusement. Her hand hovered over each of the toys but she didn't touch them.

He stepped closer to her back. "They are," he answered. She didn't turn to look at him, instead, she picked up the first toy. A light purple vibrator. He nearly smiled. It was the first one he had bought, it made him think of her.

"When did you buy them?" Olivia questioned, setting the device back in its place. Elliot dropped his head. She closed the first drawer and opened the next, running her fingers over the steel cuffs, then the leather restraints and ropes. She went through the entire dresser before bending over to reach the bottom drawer, her ass brushed against his crotch. His proximity to her still sent his blood rushing south and he pondered if he would ever get over this. If he would be able to be near her without wanting to fuck her, without wanting the feeling of her underneath him.

_Probably not._

"About three months ago," he murmured. She turned around then, looking at him with confusion across her face. Her hands were wrapped around the spreader bar that had been neatly tucked away in the back of the very last drawer. She cocked an eyebrow at him and waited for her answer. "We got called in and you got interrupted on a date," he admitted. "You wore this glittery little dress…" Elliot bit his lip at the memory. "I wanted you then. I had for a while. But I needed some kind of control. I needed-"

"To be dominant," she interrupted. Her small smirk had spread into a full, beautiful smile. Olivia threw the bar onto the bed and it landed with a soft thud against the pillows. Her eyes didn't waver from his – the fire behind them was roaring. Elliot let go of his towel to place his hands on her cheeks, bringing her face to his. He kissed her in a clash of lips and teeth and tongue; his relief and need melting together.

Olivia's towel hit his feet.

He smiled.

* * *

_Two weeks later._

She waited in the shadows.

Her target would approach in a matter of seconds and she knew she would need to take him by surprise. To force him off balance. Footsteps came down the hallway. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the sound – heavy instep, light on the toes.

It was _him._

His frame turned towards the door and he dug into his pocket in search of his keys. He held his police cap in his left hand – his dark blue dress uniform always had an effect on her. She knew when she had seen him earlier in the day leaving for a meeting at One Police Plaza in his uniform that she would have to make her way over to his place before he had a chance to shed off the suit. Typically, the uniform had no effect on her; she wore one when the occasion called for it, all her colleagues did. With him it was different. He held himself a little stiffer in the uniform, he looked just a little more buttoned up and untouchable.

He stuck the key into the lock and she needed to go now or risk her cover being blown. She moved quickly, jamming two fingers into his back with one hand and gripping his waist with the other. A low chuckle came from Olivia's throat. "What's this?" She leaned up onto her toes so she could speak into his ear. "A Captain caught off guard?"

Elliot twisted his top half around, grabbing her roughly and pushing her against his door. "I knew you were here," he rasped, his eyes darkening. He leaned down to ear just as she had done to him before. "I could smell your perfume on the elevator." There was no lie in his voice.

She didn't let her disappointment phase her.

Elliot brushed his lips against her ear as he growled. "Go inside, Olivia." He turned the key in the lock beside her and she stood up, bumping her chest against his while the door opened. As soon as they were both inside Olivia grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him towards the door, his back crashing into the wood and clicking it closed with his weight. She locked the door again and kissed him hard.

Her hands immediately went to his zipper. She ran her hand along his length – he was hard for her already. Her lips turned up into a smile against his mouth. Olivia pulled down the zipper and felt for his boxers but only felt skin beneath her fingers.

He laughed and parted their kiss. "Call it intuition…" his amused face didn't deter her actions. She lowered herself to her knees and pulled his cock free from his dress pants. Olivia fisted him in her hand and took him in her mouth, staring up at his expression. His lips were parted, and he dropped his cap to the floor beside her.

"Olivia," he moaned. Her hot mouth worked over him until he was hitting the back of her throat. His head fell back against the door gently, all she could see was his jaw lowering as he gasped. His hands were in her hair, stroking her as he met her mouth with his hips. She focuses on his face and hollows out her cheeks, flicking her tongue over the tip over and over again.

He found a rhythm with her mouth. Slowly he would thrust into her as she descended – the feeling of his legs beginning to shake only encouraged her more. "Please," he begged. She wouldn't give in, she wanted him right where he was.

Elliot loosened his tie and managed to unbutton his collar with shaking fingers. His other hand stayed in her hair, just as his eyes stayed on hers. "You're so beautiful." His voice was rough with need. She knew that he wouldn't be able to put his dress uniform on again without thinking about her. About her mouth. About this moment.

She could feel his legs beginning to shake. "Come for me," she commanded. With a few more swipes of her tongue over the head of his cock, he jerked and spilled into her waiting mouth. He grunted her name and watched her work him to the point his knees nearly gave out.

"Something about a man in uniform…"

* * *

She raised the garter on her left leg a little bit higher and took a deep breath.

Her fingers curled around the door and she slowly opened it. His shirt was unbuttoned and hung from his shoulders. The only other clothing he had on was his boxers as he sat on the edge of the bed, seemingly waiting for her. His head raised and she stared at him while he took her in.

The lingerie was all black lace and not much else. The bra dipped between her breasts and left little to the imagination. She brushed the wavy hair away from her face and leaned against the door frame, running her fingers down over her chest and down her stomach.

His eyes finally landed on her face and she smirked.

"Are you ready for me, daddy?"


	12. Chapter 12

He wanted to shred his tie.

He wanted to rip it apart and never wear another one again. It was too tight at the base of his throat, pressing in too sharply beneath his Adam's apple. He was never claustrophobic, especially in a simple suit and tie. Today he was.

_Are you ready for me, daddy?_

He closed his eyes and let the memory of two weeks prior to wash over him. She had walked into the room with confidence he had never seen from any woman. His heart had leaped into his throat at the sight of her beautiful body covered in lace and straps and tiny buckles. Her eyebrow had arched when she had seen him take in the image of her presented to him like this. Amusement played at her features, but he quickly washed the expression away with his lips and tongue between her legs.

She was nearly two decades younger than him and he would worship the ground she walked on if she asked him.

She had been underneath him – her long legs draped over his shoulders, the garters on her thighs scraping his stomach with every thrust of his hips. His right hand wrapped around her throat; her hands shackled to his headboard. His jaw had nearly unhinged completely at the sheer pleasure of fucking her like that. She was at his mercy.

He could come undone with her. He could tear himself apart at the seams and she would take every tragic, broken part of him and allow him to dominate her so intimately. She took his roughness, and in turn, his gentleness. Never complained or begged for something different.

She knew what they had meant to each other.

Elliot opened his eyes and glanced out at his office. He sat perfectly still; his elbows on his desk, his head in his hands. There was no way he could move. If he did, he would trash his entire office. He'd break the chairs, throw the desk at the wall and pull every fucking book from the shelf so he could light the whole office on fire and be done with it.

So, he stayed still.

It had only been 24 hours and he was ready to quit his job.

The precinct had been under intense scrutiny, having had details of an ongoing case leaked to the press which ultimately led to a victim having her name published across the headlines of the New York Times. One Police Plaza had struck down hard and assigned the Deputy Commissioner to follow the unit's every move for the foreseeable future.

Deputy Commissioner Ken Watson was an asshole, to say the least. He had dealt with the man on a few unfortunate occasions, but now that Watson had an excuse to overanalyze every move Elliot's squad made, it was worse.

It had only been 24 hours since they had decided to end their relationship pre-emptively due to the compounding pressure from their higher-ups. Elliot had very little time to think of her, how they had proactively decided to push pause on their relationship for the time being. He ached for her in every way possible.

Olivia hadn't even given him a chance to talk her out of it. She was the one who had come over to his place and told him she was worried for his career if they were to get caught during the investigation. He could see in her eyes that she didn't want it to end any more than he did, but they needed to be careful for now. They had been in the past and no one had suspected anything to have happened between them – but she wasn't willing to put his career on the line for her, or for their ill-defined relationship. Just as quickly as she had come to his apartment, she had left him.

He needed her and couldn't have her.

They had come full circle and he was trapped in square one.

"Elliot," he heard from the doorway of his office. He didn't move, convinced it was just her voice in his head as it had replayed a thousand times over the past day. A soft sigh followed his name and he heard the clicking of heels coming to the side of his desk. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him.

Elliot turned his gaze from his desk down to the floor and saw her black high heels. He slowly dragged his eyes up her body, pausing at the gap between her black pencil skirt and pink blouse tied delicately in the front. A sliver of skin was showing between the two fabrics and he exhaled sharply, standing up from his desk. His eyes landed on her mouth which had parted in shock at his sudden movement.

"Where's the Deputy Commissioner?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and stepped closer. "Gone for the night. Where are you going?" Her mouth opened again to respond but closed again. He could see her breathing increasing at his proximity, he could feel the rush of heat that simmered on her skin.

She wanted him.

"Monique is taking me to Lucky," she managed to mumble, her eyes dropping to his mouth.

His eyebrows raised in question. "Isn't that a gay bar?" Olivia nodded to him absentmindedly, drawing closer to his lips. "Is Monique…" He trailed off, his hand itching to reach out and touch her exposed skin, to feel her against him.

"She doesn't put labels on anything."

_Just like us._

"Right."

"I gotta go," she breathed, tucking her hair behind her ear. His mouth lifted in a half-smile before he bit his lip. He needed restraint, patience – anything to get him through this.

Elliot leaned into her ear, careful not to touch her. "You could stay," he whispered lowly. His mouth inched towards the shell of her ear.

"I could," she started. "I could get on my knees right here for you. But we're staying away from each other, and my friend is taking me out to cheer me up. So, I guess you'll have to just sit here… And think about my mouth."

With a sly smile, Olivia backed away from him and walked out of the office.

* * *

Three cocktails had done nothing to soothe her emotions.

The first two had gone down so effortlessly and Monique hadn't even raised an eyebrow at how quickly they disappeared. She had only gotten their third round and spoke to Olivia over the thumping of music inside the bar. Olivia tried to stay with the conversation, tried to focus on every word that came from her partner.

Somewhere in the mix of music and words, her mind would drift back to Elliot.

_I'm sorry._

_You don't have to do this._

_I'm not letting you risk an amazing career for an indiscretion._

_You aren't an indiscretion._

"Olivia," Monique coaxed her from her thoughts. "Are you going to tell me what's going on up there?" She pointed to Olivia's forehead with a lighthearted laugh. Her partner's eyes crinkled with empathy and she kept her body language open and inviting, wanting Olivia to get the hurt off of her chest.

She dropped her attention back to her glass, twirling the straw around with her finger. "It's complicated."

Monique laughed. "Isn't it always?" She placed her hand on Olivia's shoulder to comfort her. "You were so happy, what happened?"

"The job," she shook her head and sipped at her cocktail. "It's just a temporary break, doesn't make it hurt any less though." Olivia paused, watching her friend sigh and slump slightly in her seat. "I'm sorry I'm bumming out girls' night. I'm just going to head home."

"No, Olivia-"

"It's fine really," she patted Monique on the arm and drained her drink. "You stay. That blonde has had her eyes on you since we walked in anyways." Olivia jutted her chin to the woman in question sitting a few tables behind them.

She picked up her purse and said goodbye to Monique, leaving her friend to the bar and the company of an attractive woman. Olivia smiled back at her over her shoulder before stepping out onto the street. The air was cold for the summertime and she shivered until she hailed a cab and slid into the warm backseat. Quietly, she told the driver her address and reached into her purse to find her phone. The clunky device lit up the backseat of the cab as it came to life.

_1 new voicemail._

" _Olivia, it's me. I know you're out with Monique… But I can't stop thinking about you. Wish you were here. Hope you have a good night out. Behave yourself."_

A knot formed in the back of Olivia's throat as she clicked the phone off and shoved it back in her purse. She blew a breath out through her nose in frustration. Every part of her wanted to tell the cab driver to drive to Elliot's apartment and pound on his door until he answered. Her back settled into the leather seat in defeat. She couldn't go there – she couldn't force him to risk more than he already had for them.

It wasn't in Elliot's nature to relent in any way. She had to be the one to call it off in order to protect him from the downfall of Deputy Commissioner Watson's investigation. He would have openly fallen on his sword for her and she wasn't willing to give up what he had worked so hard for. She wasn't prepared for what that would mean for both of them. Olivia closed her eyes and leaned her head on the window, curling her hands in to hug herself.

They had teased each other back in the office and a feeling buried deep in her belly told her that their mutual taunting and toying with one another would only escalate. He would push her, she would push right back. Tomorrow would be a new day, and she would test Elliot's resolve more than ever. The investigation would soon close and she was determined to win the upper hand in their everlasting power struggle.

_Game on, Captain._


	13. Chapter 13

She wasn't ready to face him.

_Not yet. Not yet. Not yet._

The mantra repeated over and over in her head. If he didn't kill her on the spot, then she was in a world of trouble. Their working relationship hadn't changed, and she feared it was about to because of what had transpired in the last hour. They remained professional and polite in front of others. A few stolen glances and times they'd catch the other staring aside, they had the situation under control.

Until now.

The suspect they had been chasing since Elliot and Olivia had decided to take a break from their relationship had been on the other side of the apartment door. They'd finally gotten a break in the case while interviewing a witness who identified him and quickly – too quickly – the pieces of the case's puzzle fell together. She and Monique had knocked on the door and announced themselves as police when suddenly they heard frantic shuffling. Olivia had stepped back from the door, about to start kicking it down when a shot rang out and went through the door, directly between her and Monique. They had drawn their weapons and waited on either side of the door frame waiting until they heard their perp running again. This time Monique kicked the door, and they were able to apprehend their suspect who had gotten stuck trying to crawl out of the window to the fire escape below.

When she had radioed in _'shots fired'_ , and they had wordlessly agreed to escalate the situation and catch the man, they had broken direct orders. They knew he was dangerous. They knew he had weapons. They knew he wouldn't go down without a fight. Still, she and Monique had surged on.

Which left Olivia knowing that she would have to answer for what they had done. She wouldn't let Monique take the heat for this.

"I'll talk to him first."

Monique turned to her, a wild expression on her face. "Are you nuts? No, I'll go. He's pissed."

"Monique," she put her hand on her partner's shoulder and moved past her towards the captain's office. "It'll be fine."

She didn't know if she was saying it to her partner or herself.

Either way, she was screwed.

Olivia entered the office and quietly shut the door behind her. She leaned back and let the cool glass window settle on her shoulders. There was no way she could look at him now, the disappointment and anger in his eyes would prove to be too much for her to handle.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck happened?"

His voice was so low, so contrived as if he was trying desperately to hold back from yelling at her. There was emotion behind his words that she couldn't yet place. She stared at anything but him. The nameplate on his desk. Papers neatly stacked and files organized across the wood. A small snow globe that was probably a gift from one of his children.

"We couldn't just let him get away," she managed to break her echoing silence. Out of the corner of her eye, he shifted his weight and sat back on the edge of his desk. He was silent for a beat and she listened to his breathing, each controlled exhale from his nose brought her closer to the edge of looking at him but she still couldn't.

Elliot began to roll the sleeves of his white dress shirt when he spoke again. "You disobeyed a direct order, Olivia." He was too stiff in his delivery, too controlled. She knew he reverted to this when he was struggling with his self-control.

Maybe it was her that was making him struggle. Or something else entirely.

She couldn't look at him to try and decipher his expression or intent.

"Yes Captain," she affirmed quietly.

"Don't 'yes Captain' me," his tone changed, darkened. "You risked both you and your partners lives back there for no good reason and you're not even sorry." He crossed his arms over his chest and she dragged her eyes over the taut muscles, _just once,_ because she swore he was doing this to her on purpose. They contracted beneath her gaze, causing her to swallow thickly.

_Focus._

"No, I'm not," her voice came out sharper than she had intended. She heard the hitch of his breath and knew she had struck a nerve immediately. "I got him off the streets and that's our job. I was the one who took the lead and made that call." She wasn't about to apologize for the actions she had taken, the danger she had put herself in. Their perp was in central booking and the survivors of his crimes would be given a chance at justice.

"Good for you for sticking your neck out for your partner, really."

His voice dripped with sarcasm and had risen in volume. Elliot's arms uncrossed and he gripped the edges of his desk tightly. His knuckles turned white with the pressure he placed on the wood and she knew this was only the beginning of whatever was coming towards her.

"You can think about that and your lackluster apology while you serve your two-day suspension."

Olivia's eyes shot to his. His jaw muscle was contracting harshly beneath his skin and he glared at her severely before flashing a glance at the window beside them, the drawn blinds probably giving everyone in the squad room a clear view of him chewing her out. Her heart jumped into her throat. She had never fucked up this severely or even been given a written warning, and now she was about to be suspended for two days. Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to grapple with what he had said. She wanted to get angry and yell back but she thought better of it, knowing it would only further add to the damage she had done.

"Okay," she whispered. Her eyes dropped to his mouth unconsciously and she caught herself, bringing her eyes back to his. His jaw tightened further and he pursed his lips into a hard line. His eyes fell to her mouth when he stepped forward a few feet.

"Now get out of my office."

* * *

She had seen right through him.

He thought he had control when she had come into his office to explain her actions. But she had control the entire time. She drove him insane – not looking at him, not even offering an apology or showing any concern for her personal safety. When he had been able to look in her eyes, she had seen what he was desperately trying to hide. He was pissed at her in a professional setting but wanted to fuck her until she couldn't walk in private.

She was the most frustrating woman he had ever met.

They had been together long enough that he knew her routine when she left the precinct. He walked out of the bullpen after a few minutes, enough time to let the situation diffuse and for everyone to seemingly go back to work. His expression was neutral as he passed by the desks of his detectives and down the hallway towards the locker room.

He turned the corner and saw her, angrily shoving her clothes into her gym bag, her back turned to him. Olivia stilled when he approached her from behind. She didn't make a move or open her mouth to speak, only stood silently facing away from him. He thumbed the key in his pocket and brought it out to examine. The brass glimmered in the low light of the locker room when he turned it over once more before stepping closer to her.

Elliot slid the key into the back pocket of her jeans, smiling at the way her breathing stopped at his slight touch. "Be at my place in two hours," he murmured directly into her ear, brushing his nose through her hair. "In my room," he slipped his hand around her waist, his fingers tracing her skin just under the edge of her blouse. "On your knees."

Without giving her a chance to answer, he turned from her and walked back out of the locker room.

* * *

The anticipation was killing her.

She had come to his place and let herself in. The apartment was the same as ever – clean, tidy, organized. He had trusted her enough to send her over to his apartment before he had come home from whatever he was doing and she wasn't going to fuck it up by snooping through his belongings. Though the curiosity ate at her, there really wasn't much to look at. A few family photographs along the eastern wall of the apartment and drawings from his children were all that she saw on her walk to his bedroom.

Olivia had piled her clothes neatly beside his closet, leaving her bra and panties on. They had done a lot of things in the entirety of their previous relationship, but what he had planned for her tonight she could already sense would be a night to remember. There hadn't been much of any talking in his office or in the locker room. As she paced back and forth in his bedroom, she wondered if the Deputy Commissioner had finally taken the heat off of Elliot, or if they had even suspected anything in the first place. She had been the one to break things off before and to try to run and protect him from the consequences. Yet here she was.

When she heard the deadbolt on the door begin to unlock, announcing his return, she had rushed from where she had been pacing to the foot of his bed. The heat was already pooling between her thighs. She had given herself plenty of time to get to his apartment and let herself in, and the entire time she was in his room had given her a moment to think about his demand.

She was soaked.

Olivia soundlessly got to her knees and placed her hands on the beige carpet. Her fingers drummed on the carpet – she was too wired and turned on to be patient anymore. She wanted whatever he was offering to her tonight. The case had given her the perspective she needed on their relationship and she knew as soon as the case had closed, they were back on as if nothing had happened.

Besides her two-day suspension.

Elliot appeared at the door and she bit her lip immediately at the sight of him. He didn't speak to her, his only acknowledgment of her presence was his eyes traveling up and down her body as he loosened his tie and pulled it from his neck. His shoes and suit jacket were gone but he was still fully dressed when he strode to the black dresser and opened the first drawer. She watched him pull a silk blindfold out and placed it in his hand on top of his tie before walking back in front of her.

"Do you want this?"

"Yes."

He draped the tie over his forearm and knotted the blindfold at the back of her head. She was effectively blinded and she listened to him swivel around, standing behind her when he told her to put her hands behind her back. She complied all too eagerly.

"Olivia, I'm gonna push you hard tonight."

His voice was close to her but the warning hidden in his rumble wasn't lost.

She bit her lip and nodded, shifting to press her thighs together and relieve the pressure building between her legs. He bound her wrists together behind her back with his tie and walked back in front of her and she felt his knee bump into hers as he joined her kneeling. His mouth was on her in an instant.

In their prior relationship, his kisses had been rough and dominant. Tonight, he was soft, pliable, as if he'd been thinking of this moment since they had broken up. Her head screamed for her to run, to leave, but she softened into him as well, absorbing the feeling of his lips and tongue on her. She knew the truth that was buried deep inside of her. There wasn't a way out because neither of them wanted it.

Olivia was rooted to the carpet, not only by the tie that bound her but by his kiss. Her teeth scraped over his bottom lip which caused a low groan to rip from his throat and she felt the change in him instantly.

He'd been caught up in savoring her, in making up for the lost time and had forgotten momentarily what he had planned for her. The light nip sent his mind spiraling and she felt his mouth fall away from her. She listened to him standing up and undoing his belt. He stepped closer to her, running his thumb over her bottom lip. Heat rose from her stomach to her chest. Her tongue met his thumb as he dipped the finger into her mouth and she sucked gently.

"Open your mouth," he instructed, and she let his thumb fall from her lips as they parted. She eagerly took his cock into her mouth, slipping her tongue over his length while she worked down until he touched the back of her throat. The blindfold prevented her from seeing his expression but she could see it in her head when he moaned and pressed his hand to the back of her head.

Olivia began to bob her head in time with his hips thrusting into her mouth. He was louder now than she had ever heard, and she wondered if it was because one of her senses was taken away, or the excitement of having her in this position again. His moans only served to send waves of pleasure coursing through her as she sucked him. Her hands ached to touch him, to grasp his strong thighs, his ass, to run her fingers along his stomach.

He was punishing her tonight.

"Don't fucking stop," Elliot groaned, sending another rush of wetness to her core. She heard his hand slam into the metal footboard and his movements became shaky and jagged as he fucked into her mouth. "I'm gonna come," he erupted, the evidence of his orgasm spilling into her. Olivia took everything he gave her and swallowed, slowing her movements while he twitched between her lips.

She wanted to see his expression but all she saw in the blindfold was darkness. He panted harshly above her for a few moments before regaining his composure and retracting himself from her. Elliot leaned down and kissed her again, this time she could sense that he had managed to wrangle his self-control. His climax had given him clarity – it was just enough to take the edge off. That only scared and excited her more; he would be ready to go again soon but not knowing or seeing what was coming next had her heart pounding.

He left her side to return to the dresser once more. Her heart was in her throat then, the suspense hanging in the air causing her breathing to increase. Elliot had barely touched her since coming home and she craved the contact, needed the pressure to dissipate. By the time he returned to where she was kneeling on the floor, she had barely processed the sound of him stripping off the remainder of his clothes. She could hear something hit the bed but couldn't identify the short, sharp sound.

His rough hands firmly grasped her biceps and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled forward, the blindfold threw off her equilibrium and she knocked into his hard chest. His breath was hot on her face and he surprised her, his right hand finding the knot at the back of her head and letting the silk fall from her face. Her eyes fluttered as she blinked wildly, adjusting back to the light of his bedroom.

He'd barely given her the opportunity to take in his bare skin before he sat near the head of the bed, leaning back into the headboard and spreading his legs. His arms brought her back with him and she let her head fall back onto his shoulder when she adjusted in his lap. His chest was warm on her upper back, his vast muscles providing her with a large cushion to lay on. If her hands weren't bound behind her she would have thought he was wanting to cuddle and hold her like this but she knew better. He wasn't anywhere near done with her.

His right hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear before he spoke. "You are so fucking sexy," he whispered hotly in her ear. "But you drive me nuts," he bit down on her earlobe and skated his fingers down her arm and splayed them across her stomach. She smiled at his words and let out a small laugh which quickly turned into a moan as his left hand found her breast, tweaking her nipple through her lace bra.

"Elliot," the whimper came from her mouth before she could stop herself. He sighed again and scraped his right hand below the waistband of her panties, sliding his middle finger along her slit.

"Jesus, Olivia," he moaned, the slickness between her thighs coating his finger. She could hear how ready she was for him and she wanted to feel embarrassed but she couldn't, her arousal had completely clouded her mind. His hand left her for a moment and when it came back, he was holding the purple vibrator in his grasp.

"Don't cum."

All she could do was nod, feeling the smooth vibrator dip under the lace. Elliot thumbed the switch, bringing the device to life and pressing it against her clit. Her head fell back onto his shoulder again as her legs twitched on the bed, the vibrations sending shock waves through her body. She had her instructions – she wasn't allowed to do the one thing her mind and body were begging for.

He flicked his wrist while he continued to press the vibrator into her. Over and over, he changed his pace, the tempo, the movement, until she was writhing in his lap and craning her neck back towards his face. His lips captured hers again and she tried to lose herself in his kiss, tried to distract herself from how he kept working her up and bringing her back down. She'd been close too many times to count. It made her heart race erratically.

"Please," she begged into his mouth.

Her skin was clammy with need, she felt like her entire body was soaked with desire.

"No."

He switched the vibrator off and placed it beside him on the bed. A guttural moan came from Olivia. Her chest was heaving, she needed him to give her the release soon or she was going to come apart at the seams and go feral. Maybe that's what he wanted.

She couldn't think.

Elliot pushed her upward off of him, placing her pliable body on her side. He kneeled on the bed beside her, stroking her bound hands behind her back before taking her panties and moving them to the side. His hard cock found her entrance easily and he rubbed himself against her, teasing her relentlessly. "Please," she begged again.

"Don't cum," he reminded her as he sheathed himself inside of her. The angle he was fucking her at made her tighter, made his length feel impossibly huge inside of her. She felt herself beginning to clench around him and she bit hard into her bottom lip, trying to fight it off and follow his orders.

She was already being punished; she didn't even want to know what would happen if she came without his permission.

"Don't," he repeated. Olivia watched his eyes, bright and blazing on hers while he hit into her. He moved slow but hard, she figured he knew if he fucked her any faster that she would come and have no control over it. Her eyes glazed over his muscular arms and chest, down to the light dusting of hair that leads to his cock. It had only been a week since she had seen him like this but he was more angular, more cut than she had seen him before. He was insanely fit and it showed in the ferocity of which he fucked her.

She wanted to touch his skin and scratch him, she wanted his skin pinched between her teeth and to flip him over and ride him until she came. At this point, it wouldn't take much. He was keeping her teetering on the edge so well. She didn't even recognize the moans that were coming from her own mouth.

"Daddy, please," she cried, her back arching as his length hit deeper into her. Elliot smiled down at her and slapped her ass hard.

"Cum."

The syllable had barely left his mouth when his hips slammed into hers, his pace becoming fast and hard. He sent her over the edge and she opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. Her vision had gone completely blurry, all she saw was his lips moving as he grunted her name. Her legs twitched uncontrollably, he had to still momentarily in order to hold himself within her as they both came hard, her core clenching around him so tightly he had to fight to stay inside of her.

Elliot half collapsed onto her side but managed to raise his left hand to undo the tie around her wrists. She brought her arms back to her front and reached up to him, bringing his head down to kiss her. Her body clenched again with the last wave of her orgasm and they moaned together.

"I missed you."


	14. Chapter 14

His cheeks hurt from grinning.

The late evening sun flashes through the back of their cab with every passing vehicle. The driver weaves through traffic and a smile is plastered across his face. He'd just taken her for dinner, and she is beside him in the back of the vehicle just as deliriously happy as he is. She's playing it cool, but he sees the corner of her lips turned up into a smirk in his peripheral vision.

He shouldn't be this happy. He should be worried about consequences and his job and her job and her life – instead, he shifts his hand on her knee, sliding it up her bare thigh. She'd worn a skirt and the tiny black tank top she'd shown up at his place wearing weeks before. The skirt is open enough that as his hand glides up her smooth leg, she doesn't need to move to give him access to his intended destination.

She's on the first day of her suspension and she'd agreed to go out on a date with him. He'd fucked her slowly when she woke up, holding her against him as she writhed in his sheets. _"Is this your apology for suspending me?"_ She'd asked, but he only answered by kissing her deeply.

"Elliot," she whispers in warning low enough only he hears. The cab driver keeps his eyes on the road, and Olivia bites her lip when he looks down at her. Elliot's knuckles brush over her hip, feeling only bare skin.

"Were you not wearing…" he trails off, watching her grin.

"Took you long enough to notice."

_Jesus Christ._

He drops his mouth to her ear, biting down on the lobe and suckling gently. She exhales and quickly takes in a breath when he moves his mouth down to her neck, leaving wet kisses along the sensitive skin. His middle finger swipes down her bare slit and he slams his eyes shut against her collarbone, he needs _control._

He knows Olivia loves to push his buttons, she loves every reaction she gets from him – but if he isn't careful, if he doesn't breathe and grasp at the last strands of his sanity, he'll get them both in trouble for fucking her in the back of the cab. His heart is hammering in his chest, his mind is racing with all the ways he could take her right now.

He could have her spread out across the back seat in seconds. He could pull her into his lap. It wouldn't take much. His cock is granite right now, just from feeling her like this. Knowing she sat across the table from him at dinner, that mischievous little smile across her perfect lips. He'd watched her pressing her thighs together under the table and he should have known, _fuck,_ he should have realized what she was up to. She always manages to get the upper hand on him when he least expects it.

"Do you wanna get punished?" He growls, and he needs to keep his voice low enough that the driver won't hear their conversation. Her quiet moan in his ear is the answer he seeks, the answer he knew before he even asked. She's wet against his fingers, her slick arousal is almost too much for him to handle and he fights to breathe. He swears, swirling his index finger over her clit as her legs jerk slightly with each movement. Olivia moans and he quickly covers her mouth with his, dipping his tongue between her lips before retracting.

"Shhh," he warns. "You're already in enough trouble as is."

* * *

She could tell that she had rattled something loose within him while they were in the cab.

He gripped her waist hard as they walked up to his building and through the front doors. His fingers were bunching in the material of her skirt and with every step, the hemline inched higher and higher on her thighs. He had pushed her towards the stairs instead of the elevator, grunting to her that he didn't trust himself alone in an elevator with her. The stairs hadn't been much better; he stopped after the first flight and turned quickly, crushing his mouth over hers.

She's watching him, and his fingers tremble as he finds his keys and unlocks the door to his apartment. He's not nervous – no, he never would be – but she had toyed with him just enough that he needed to regain that control. She would never admit it, but their game of cat and mouse has always amused and aroused her endlessly.

Olivia seeks out his weaknesses and is stealthy in her attack. It's a rouse for her, and for him, he loves to take back control. Once she gets the upper hand, he's clawing back until he is satisfied. He keeps her on her toes. She breathes new life into him.

"Olivia."

He pulls her wrists up when they get inside the apartment and pushes her against the wall. His knee settles between her legs and she groans quietly, her eyes closed, waiting for him. The cold steel of his handcuffs slip around her left wrist, and then her right. She listens to the way they synch around her skin, how he adjusts them to the perfect tightness for her security and her pleasure.

It hits her then. She'd been searching for so long for someone – something – that would surprise her, delight her. Someone who makes her feel safe. He provides everything she's wanted. His knee presses deeper between her legs and she finds herself grinding her hips lower, her unmistakable wetness urging him to continue. She needs him to take her and make her forget.

_Fuck._

She opens her eyes and he's watching her with an amused smirk. His eyes drop to her mouth and she needily seeks him, but before she can kiss him and feel him on her, he's bending and picking her up, easily placing her over his shoulder. He slaps her ass hard and laughs when she gasps at his antics.

She can't forget.

Every moment they've shared together thus far has proved that no matter how hard or fast or rough they are with one another, she can't fuck his memory from her mind. She can't forget how he makes her feel but she has to put it out of her mind, because this wasn't their agreement.

Her feelings for him weren't written in the rules.

Her cuffed hands sway with each step that he takes and all she can see is his black slacks and bare feet as he walks into his bedroom. Elliot sets her down on her feet, facing the bed. She doesn't move, she only looks to him. His eyes are narrowed on her, his breath coming in quick pants as he unbuttons his shirt. A flush spreads over her skin when he sheds the material from his shoulders – he's completely focused on her, his expression so dark that she can't help the way her blood pounds loudly in her chest.

"Bend over the bed."

She willingly complies, stretching her cuffed hands out in front of her and bending at the waist. Her eyes are on the dark duvet on his bed – she knows better than to look back at him right now. His thumbs hook into her skirt and push it up roughly, exposing her bottom half to him. He groans in appreciation and palms her ass, slapping it hard again. She bites her lip and moans quietly with each impact of his hand on her.

His fingertips slide down over her thighs, and then she feels leather around her right ankle. He's used the spreader bar on her before, and every time he uses it, she comes around him harder than she thinks could physically be possible. When he does this to her, she's his for the taking – and giving up that control for him, only him has her throbbing with need every single time. Once he binds her other ankle, he uses his brute force to spread the bar further and her legs jump out, leaving her bare body completely open to him.

She gasps at the sensation, and the whisper of his fingers are gliding up her legs again. He's momentarily gentle, and it's so fleeting but she feels these sharp shifts in him, even when she isn't facing him. Olivia chances a look over her shoulder at him and that's when his hand comes down hard on her reddened ass.

"Fuck," she lets out. She'd been trying to keep quiet, she's still trying to push his buttons because she loves watching him break. With every strike of his palm, however, she only gets more turned on.

Elliot stops, and she hears the sound of his belt being unbuckled and his slacks falling to the floor. He touches her again, but he surprises her with his tongue slipping over her slit. Her hips involuntarily arch into his mouth. His lips close on her clit and he sucks hard, causing her legs to shake.

For each stroke of his tongue on her, she wonders how she was able to give him up before. He plays every inch of her body so well, he's so attuned to her in every way. The thought makes her knees give in a little, but the shackles that bind her legs open remind her of where she is when the sound of metal clashing hits her ears.

"Stay still," he warns her darkly. Elliot stands behind her and then he's sheathing himself in her, the hard surface of his hips hitting her softly. She thinks he must know that she aches to touch him, to see him. It's part of the punishment that she craves. He hits into her again and his grunt as he folds himself over her back, and his mouth settles on the back of her neck.

There are a thousand things she wants to do to him now. He pushes all the thoughts from her mind with every shift of his length inside of her, every slam of his body into hers. They all come racing back when he speaks to her again.

" _God,_ you're beautiful." It's the low drawl of his voice, the way his tongue singes down her spine and across her shoulder blade when he says it that surprises her. He's not saying it to get anything from her; everything he wants he has at the moment. He's saying it because he means it, and that causes her body to still, just for a moment.

She swallows thickly and reminds herself this isn't the time for heated confessions or an outpouring of emotions. He's buried deep the fuck inside of her and her mind is operating at reduced capacity from the pleasure he gives and takes.

"You getting soft on me, Captain?"

Elliot grunts out a laugh at her remark, but his open palm pressing her into the mattress gives her an answer that she only half-expected. The authority is back in his voice when he growls, "This feel soft to you?" His hips accentuate his words, swiveling and slamming into her.

She's writhing then, desperately pressing herself back into him to gain any additional friction she can grasp. Her legs are so immobilized by the spreader bar that she can't move too much and Olivia hears the amusement in his grunts while she desperately seeks out the orgasm she needs. Somewhere between the first, heated gaze they shared and whatever lies in her future, she finds herself here. Trapped beneath his thick, muscular body as he penetrates her body and soul, she cries out and the last thought that sears through her mind as she comes is that she is _his._

_Only his._

No one has satisfied her in the same ways. No one has understood her quite like he does. There are no judgments. She's safe yet in more danger than she's ever been. It's everything she'd never known she wanted from a man.

When she's able to breathe again, she hears the deep rumble of him.

"Good girl."

The second time she comes is more violent than the first. She feels like she's being ripped apart at the seams and he empties himself into her with a ragged curse of her name. Her face is still buried in the comforter when releases her from the spreader bar and then the handcuffs.

Her eyes remain closed but she feels how gentle he is as he moves her body, and then her head is resting on his chest while he lays on his back. They don't speak – he only brushes her hair from her face with a featherlight touch of his fingers. His hand stays on her hair, softly running his fingers over it, through it. Slowly she feels herself coming back from wherever the pleasure he had given to her had taken her to.

"Maybe I am getting soft on you," he mumbles absentmindedly.

She can't quite find her voice yet but she fights the urge to keep her eyes closed. Craning her head, she looks up at him and doesn't find a hint of amusement or laughter on his face. "You don't have to do this."

"I need you to know," Elliot presses his index finger to stop her protests before they begin again. "You mean a lot to me, Olivia." She searches his face for any sign of doubt but all she finds is adoration – _love._ Her heart hammers in her chest harder than it had been ten minutes ago when he was inside of her at the notion.

His thumb sweeps over her cheekbone and down along her jawline. She's taking in small, anxious breaths. A few moments pass and she's able to speak despite her mind telling her to run, that she can't take the hurt that would come from the demise of their relationship. She wants to cut it off before it gets too deep – but it already is, and she isn't even sure when it got so out of hand for her.

"I don't want to lose this," is all she is able to whisper.

He is calmer when he speaks, quieter. _"Then don't."_

Elliot accepts her inability to speak without question. He knows her too well; he sees her fear and accepts it as if he knows she will come around eventually. She watches the rise and fall of his stomach as he breathes, and she isn't sure how long she is there for, although he eventually falls asleep. His strong arm is still wrapped around her shoulder and she's stuck again.

She never wants to leave.

His face is peaceful as she looks up at him, there's no sign of him waking.

The words fall from her lips too easily then.

"I love you."

He doesn't stir.

* * *

She has chastised herself more in the last hour than she has perhaps in the last five years.

Earlier this morning, Elliot had woken her with a kiss as he crawled out of bed. She'd fallen back asleep and only woken again as he kissed her goodbye, leaving her naked in his bed while he went to work. Her eyes stayed open that time, and she watched the ceiling fan go around for half an hour before she cracked a smile that she wouldn't be able to wipe from her face for a long time.

So she chastised herself for it.

And again, ten minutes later when it returned, and every time since.

She's deliriously, incredibly happy.

Elliot called her an hour ago, asking her to meet him for coffee at a nearby café. She was on day two of her suspension – it wasn't like she had anywhere to be. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so eager, but she couldn't manage to say no to him. Despite all of that, she still could practically hear his own smile through the phone, and the teasing way he asked her if she was still sleeping had made her bite her lip at the ridiculousness of it all.

She crosses the street in a crowd of people and fights the urge to stuff her hands in her jeans pockets to keep herself from fidgeting. Nervous excitement courses through her and she internally rolls her eyes – she's slept with Elliot countless times, yet the idea of meeting him for coffee like some kind of domesticated couple has her reeling.

Her mind is in the clouds.

Her body is humming.

Olivia tugs at the sleeves on her red cotton shirt. Perhaps she should have dressed more formally, but he's in his dress uniform for a meeting at One Police Plaza and she's still suspended. Casual outfit be damned, she walks ahead to the café.

She spots Elliot about fifty feet from her. He's smug, leaning against the glass of the coffee shop window waiting for her. His grin slams into her; he's just as in this as she is. Maybe she should tell him now, she thinks.

_He deserves to hear her say it._

At thirty feet, she bites her lip and looks into the café and away from him.

At ten feet, she hears two unmistakable sounds.

She whirls her head around to check for Elliot, and panic rises around her. People begin to scream and run toward her, away from the noise. Her ears are ringing so loudly that the sound of civilian's cries are muffled, almost muted. She fights through the panic-stricken people to him and he's not standing anymore.

_Fuck._

Elliot is flat on his back, staring up at her with his right hand on his left shoulder. She kneels beside him and brushes his hand away quickly. Red stains his crisp white dress shirt, and the hand she had flicked away is also reddened with his blood. Through her haze, she squeezes her eyes shut and presses her palms onto his shoulder, applying pressure to the wound as she was taught in the academy.

She can't bear to look at him. If she looks, she will lose it. She keeps her eyes shut and for the first time, she feels the need to pray. She wants to pray to save him, to save herself, and for the strength to not kill the person who did this to him as soon as she finds them.

Olivia won't sleep until that happens. No, she may never sleep again.

She's gasping for air now but she can't focus on herself. The warmth of his blood spreads between her fingers and she can't concentrate on that, so she thinks about his eyes. The way they change with his mood, the way they light up when she tries to take the upper hand from him. It lets the oxygen flow a little bit easier into her lungs.

Everything falls away.

His wet hand on her face startles her. She looks down at him, at his parted lips. A sob tears from her lips and she urges herself to focus. His hand is still pointedly on her face, cupping her cheek, and she needs to talk him through this.

"Elliot, stay with me."

He lets out a shaky, broken breath.

"I love you, Olivia."

She shakes her head because he's clearly in shock.

"Stop, you don't need to-"

Elliot cuts her off again.

"I love you."

Sirens approach from afar, and she watches his steady gaze on her. If he survives, she'll kill him for scaring her like this.

She can't think of any other alternative.


	15. Chapter 15

Her heart beats slowly.

She has to will herself to breathe, to keep her heart going. It's as if her heart has switched to a manual instead of automatic, and she has to convince her mind with every moment that passes. Keep breathing, keep pushing.

It is a fruitless effort to fight anymore. She wants to give in.

Down the hall, Elliot lays on a gurney as doctors and nurses work to repair the damage caused by two bullets.

_Two._

One gunshot wound is enough. Two is far too many.

There are one-hundred-and-ninety-six tiles on the bathroom wall. She's counted them three times already. Numbers stick in her head, in her heart. It's all too much, and it was never, ever enough. She wanted more time with him. In any way she could have him.

Olivia remembers last night, how she had taken the coward's way out and told him she loves him after he was already asleep. How two hours ago he had told her he loves her while he lay bleeding in the street.

Her mind is going through cycles.

First, it's the numbers. Then, the memories.

Her brain works backward from the ending to the beginning. She wonders when it was – the precise moment she fell in love with him. It must have been one of the countless times he'd kissed her, or perhaps during their gentler moments when he pulled her close and just held her against him, and slowly her worries would melt away as if he sensed them on her mind.

She sits now on the bathroom sink in the hospital waiting room. People come and go from the room and just maneuver around her while she stares into nothingness. A small voice in her head reminds her to be strong, she needs to be strong for Elliot.

The numbers come to her again.

Then she remembers how she felt one night she had been staying at his place. How his body had molded against hers while he slept, and she was wide awake staring at the door. Just as she was about to panic and run because the act of him cuddling with her while he was sleeping was just too much – Elliot groaned in his slumber and pulled her back tighter into his chest. She was trapped and although the fear inside of her had kept her awake until that moment, she found herself relaxing into his embrace and eventually finding sleep herself.

Olivia tunes out the rest of the world. They can wait. She needs to remember every detail of him before things change and become too complicated.

"Liv," she hears, but it's not Elliot's voice. "Liv."

In her dazed condition, she looks away from the tiles and to the person standing in front of her.

_Monique._

A wave of relief washes over her. She had nearly forgotten that she'd called her partner when they arrived at the hospital and she was relegated to the waiting room. Procedures and policies thrum through her mind – there should be a protective detail for Elliot, she needs to give her statement at some point.

She needs to see Elliot.

Monique's hands cup Olivia's face, pulling her gaze up to the other woman's. Tears streak down her face openly because she's tired of hiding. It's too late. Everything will come out, it's just a matter of when.

She can't lose Monique as well.

"I'm sorry," Olivia sobs quietly. The curly-haired woman dips her head to meet her eyes again, confusion etching itself into her expression.

"What do you mean you're sorry? Where's the Captain?" Monique asks, wiping away the tears that spill onto her partner's cheeks.

The questions just make her sob harder.

"He got shot," she manages to choke out. "I was there in the street and someone shot him."

"Why were you with Stabler?"

Her mouth opens but no sound comes out.

"Oh," Monique hums, and the realization is evident in the way her voice drops. "How long, Olivia?"

Part of her wants to run away from this. She can't hurt Monique. She can't lie to her either. It's tearing her apart. All she wants is for today to be over. Perhaps tomorrow will bring an ounce of perspective on how she's going to make it out of this situation with her job, her best friend, her _boyfriend._

"A few months."

Monique sighs heavily, blowing her curled bangs out of her eyes. She takes a few moments, pacing around the small bathroom while she thinks. Olivia's frozen, stuck in her spot on top of the sink. Her hands lay open in her lap – there's no fight left in her.

"You love him, don't you."

She nods. It's the only thing she can do.

"Okay," Monique breathes. "Okay, we're gonna get you cleaned up and then we'll go find him."

They're quiet as she cleans up Olivia. The sound of the tap turning on and off fills the room. Monique is gentle, wiping the bloodied palm print from her face first before she moves onto her arms and hands. She leaves for a moment and then returns with an evidence bag and a pair of scrubs under her arms.

"Thank you," she finds herself whispering.

"What are partners for?"

* * *

She's the first thought on his mind when he wakes up.

Of course, he's used to it by now. Every morning he thinks of her. When she's not in bed beside him, he wonders how she slept. He doesn't open his eyes right away. Instead, he remembers the way her hair fans across the pillow when she sleeps, and the impossible curve of her silhouette in the dark. She's radiant day or night.

His love for her took him by surprise.

It snuck up on him. At first, it was just little things. The way she buried her face in the sheets when she caught him staring at her when they woke up in the morning. How protective she is over Monique. Then, it seemed in a blink of an eye, he was watching her leaving his place after they agreed to take some time apart when he was getting heat from the Deputy Commissioner.

Olivia's selflessness at that moment had stunned him.

He never stood a chance when it came to falling for her.

"Hey," he hears somewhere in the distance. "I know you're awake."

He wants to stay asleep. There's a dull pain in his shoulder and he knows it's not just a random ache. Everything from before he went to sleep comes back to him, only it's in pieces. Olivia is standing in front of the café, and then he's reaching for her. Suddenly, he's on the ground, a searing, white-hot pain shooting through his left shoulder. The world is hazy around him but he sees her – those brown eyes staring down at him – and just as his body begins to give in to the pain, he tells her he loves her.

"You're a bad actor, Elliot."

His eyes slowly open to the voice that coaxes him from his memories.

Olivia is sitting on the side of his hospital bed, her delicate hand curled into his. He blinks a few times, adjusting to the bright lights of the room. His eyes find hers again and she smiles nervously, her chin quivering. He can see she's cried since he's been out and it's a fear he hopes she'll never have to face again.

"Hey," he croaks.

"Hi," her voice is barely a whisper above the beeping of machines around them. "You scared me." Olivia is beautiful in front of him, even under the fluorescent lights with no makeup. She's everything from his wildest dreams and he isn't sure how he got to be so lucky as to have her in his life in this way.

"M'sorry," Elliot laughs, using his free hand to cup her cheek. He brings her mouth down to his, and she kisses him gently, her lips just grazing and pressing against him before she pulls back. "I love you."

Olivia's eyes open at his admission. "I love you, too."

He kisses her again and rests his forehead on hers.

"Things are going to get more complicated now."

_Yeah, they will._

And he'll love her even more on the other side of it.


End file.
